


Steal a moment

by Umerue



Series: Mythal's quest [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Disgruntled noises, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fashion & Couture, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, I Ship It, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied Sexual Content, Inappropriate Humor, Multi, Not Beta Read, Oh My God, Romance, Smutty Literature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:04:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4422467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umerue/pseuds/Umerue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was a woman of strong faith, honor and conviction. And the most annoyed glare he had seen in thousand years. Elgar'nan had always found much to admire in fiercer spirits, and he would be gladly interrogated by Cassandra Pentaghast any day. He was a widower who had been stuck in Dread Wolf's dready cell for several thousand years, and a smoldering glance accompanied with smutty novels and minor violence was just the thing he needed to feel like a living god again.</p>
<p>There were minor problems, of course. He was temporarily stuck in a body of a woman as a way to hide his true identity while he planned a revenge on Fen'Harel, (who was pretending to be Elgar'nan's Fade advisor). And he might have lied to Cassandra about being sent by the Maker. Also, how to explain his companions that he had driven Envy demon into despair when it tried to be as beautiful and clever as Elgar'nan, and inevitably failed? It was so hard to be perfect.</p>
<p>AU Inquisition story. Not part of a series, but a spin-off. Humor, romance and the best crack ship ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fate waits for no man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MostHopelessofRomantics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostHopelessofRomantics/gifts).



> I was asked for a "Elgar'nan baby-snatcher story." It became this. I don't know how it happened, but I'm having too much fun to stop.

He knew the measurements of his cell by heart. To cross the room took twelve steps; the length of the faintly green walls was ten steps. The wall with broken mirror was thirteen and half steps long. The numbers did not add up, but Elgar’nan knew that in the beginning the cell had been symmetric. How long time ago it had been, he couldn’t say.   
At first, he had been furious, swearing revenge. Then heartbroken for Mythal. Then, much later, he had just been. The four walls of Fen’Harel’s prison were always the same, the pieces of eluvian fractured in exact same way. He had lost the concept of time, but Elgar’nan tried to keep track of the measurements. Eldest of the Sun knew that the distortion of his cell spoke of magic weakening, and one day, his chance to escape would come. He had to be ready for that.

Fen’Harel’s prison was a clever construct, he had to give Dread Wolf that. Elgar’nan didn’t think he was in a cell, not really. He thought it was more like a spirit binding. The prison was nightmare, a veil separating world from the Beyond like suffocating cloth. The images Elgar’nan sometimes glimpsed in broken mirror were something one would expect from Lord of Nightmares. He saw People diminishing, dying, becoming mortal and losing their magic. Once he had seen the shemlen barbarians sinking fair Arlathan in the ground and enslaving those who lived there. After he saw human knights killing the People for sport, he had stopped watching. Elgar’nan preferred his nightmares to be somewhat believable.

He was laying curled on the floor of his cell, slumbering, when something shook the foundations of his prison. His blue eyes shot open, and he saw a tiny crack of green light in the wall. It was already starting to close; there was no time to lose. Making his decision, Elgar’nan summoned his magic and pulled his soul out of his body. He saw his body falling limply on the floor as his spectral form lunged towards the crack, desperate to get out.   
He was maybe one third through, seeing the green mists of Beyond with his own eyes, when he felt a horrible crushing sensation. The crack was closing. Elgar’nan’s soul twisted in pain, and he howled as Fen’Harel’s hated magic started pulling him back inside. He was the All-Father, Eldest of the Sun. He would not go back to that place. Not now, and not ever.   
Driven by rage and vengeance, Elgar’nan ripped himself in two. He would get out, even if he had to give up most of his might in the process. He could always come back for his body and power later, when he came to free others and show them Fen’Harel’s separated head.

The pain was bad enough to bring tears into his eyes, but when the crack closed, Elgar’nan had escaped. Even though he was nothing but a simple spirit, he was free. Looking around him, he saw a strange, whirling green hole in the Beyond. And behind it, their home, his and Mythal’s. The Golden City had turned black and distorted. Something was wrong.

 

But there was a more immediate concern. Two women, one of the People and old shemlen with pointy hat, were fighting a group of spiders. Elgar’nan had long waited to kill something, he didn’t like hairy things like spiders, and the woman’s face was marked with his vallaslin. It was only fitting to lend his assistance.

Once he could have killed the spiders with a flick of his fingers or an absent glance; now he had to use old-fashioned methods like beating them into death with their own legs. His weakness irked Elgar’nan, and he noticed another problem with spiders. There weren’t enough of them to satisfy his hunger for vengeance. He was still on bad mood when the slave woman spoke:   
“Ir abelas, but I think the spider is already dead.” she said carefully, speaking barbarian language.   
“Of course it is dead.” Elgar’nan said, throwing the spider leg away. “Nothing would dare to live after it has been killed by Eldest of the Sun.”  
The woman’s eyes widened, and she threw herself prostate on the ground.   
“My... My lord! But the stories... The stories all say Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, locked our gods away, and we lost our magic and our immortality.”  
“He did.” Elgar’nan said. “I just got out.”  
The shemlen woman looked aghast, her mouth hanging wide open. Elgar’nan didn’t like it.   
“What are you staring at?” he asked. “Shut your mouth. What are you doing here? You have no right to be here, or even magic.”  
Turning to his slave, he saw the familiar green glow of his escape shining on her palm.   
“It was you. You broke my prison.” he said, surprised.   
“Sire”, the title woman used was foreign in Elgar’nan’s ears but he decided he liked it. “I’m but a hunter of Clan Lavellan, and although I can’t tell how wonderful it is to have you back, I don’t know how I did it, or what just happened. There was a darkspawn with shining ball, and something went wrong. As soon as we get out of here, I will explain everything, and my Keeper will tell you more.”  
“We must try to get out.” the old shemlen nodded. “That way.”  
She pointed towards stone stairs leading to green hole in the sky.

There were more spiders, soon. Many, many spiders. Elgar’nan started to get slightly worried. His new slave was passable fighter, but the old shemlen was practically useless. Kicking spiders in long gown wasn’t practical, and letting herself to be bitten was plain stupid. Everyone knew that fear spiders ate memories. But Elgar’nan had not escaped Dread Wolf’s prison just to get overwhelmed by a group of hairy critters, and when he understood the odds were no longer on their side, he grabbed his slave and left the old woman to fend for herself.

 

They stood in the top of the stairs, and Elgar’nan touched carefully the green hole. He felt a sucking, twisting sensation, and pulled his hand back quickly.   
“Fenedhis lasa!” he cursed loudly. “I should have known this. I will flay the flesh from Dread Wolf’s bones.”  
“We must go, sire.” his slave said urgently. “The spiders are coming. They have eaten Divine Justinia.”  
“I can’t get through.” Elgar’nan said. “This thing, this veil, it separates Beyond from the other side. Without my body, I will be twisted, just like any spirit or demon pulled through. To get this far only to fail...”  
“No!” the woman’s expression was horrified. “No, sire, it can’t be. We need you. You don’t know how desperately the People need you. Our kingdom is gone, we are homeless, and the shems kill whole clans each year. The People are _dying_.”  
She quickly kneeled in front of him, looking at him with pleading violet eyes.   
“Please. I beg you. Take mine.”  
He didn’t need to be told twice. A soul could be hosted upon a willing body, and Elgar’nan seized control from the slave easily as his spirit poured inside her. The hairy spiders were already napping at their heels when Elgar’nan jumped through the green hole, sheltered inside slave woman’s body.

But something was wrong in this body. A torrent of magic, burning like a brand on their left hand. The slave’s mind was weak, unaccustomed, and it was tearing slowly apart under pressure. Elgar’nan was still reeling over his own loss at his escape, and possession was something which should not be done unprepared and in hurry.   
They fell on the burned ground, surrounded by skeletal remains, and Elgar’nan barely had the strength to look at shemlen soldiers approaching before he lost consciousness.


	2. The Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan is targeted by the most annoyed glance he has seen in thousand years.

When he woke up, he was alone in another cell, wearing slave’s body, and someone had chained his hands. The slave was simply gone, undoubtedly torn apart by divine magic in their hand. More worryingly, Elgar’nan noticed that something was very wrong. His connection to Beyond was blocked somehow; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bend reality to his will. Could it truly be like the slave had said? The People had lost their magic? Then why the slave had Dread Wolf’s mark in their hand? Elgar’nan knew the signature all too well, having stared at Fen’Harel’s finest work for eons.  
He sank down to stone floor. To escape one cell just to end up in another, except this time he had boobs. Which, of course, were conveniently out of reach because he had stupid manacles. This was not Elgar’nan’s day.

The day became much better soon when two attractive shemlen women came to interrogate him. They were intent on accusing him on Divine Justinia’s murder. It wasn’t true, because spiders had killed her, not Elgar’nan, but he decided it was prudent not to say anything about that. Besides, he rather fancied the looks of the dark one, Cassandra. She had nice scar and a smouldering glance.  
“You could interrogate me any day.” he told her.  
She wasn’t pleased at all.  
“The Divine is dead, there is a breach in the sky, and world is filled with demons. This is not the time for foolish jokes!” she snapped furiously.  
Elgar’nan considered it.  
“And what do you want me to do about it?” he asked cordially.  
The women looked at each other with disbelief.  
“It was a serious question.” Elgar’nan said, feeling irked. “I’m not offering my help just to anyone. Usually there is a lot more chanting, gifts and priests included. You should consider yourselves lucky. “  
“Are you saying you _could_ do something about it? The Breach?” Cassandra asked suspiciously.  
“Maybe she is still sick, delirious. She has been at death’s gates for three days.” the red-haired Leliana said to Cassandra.  
“Maybe you should just get these off me and let us see what I can do.”, Elgar’nan looked at Cassandra, offering his chained hands. “You can’t know if you don’t try.”  
“Very well.” Cassandra sighed and bent to open his manacles. “Right now, we can’t turn down anyone’s help.”

She took him outside and pointed at the huge hole in the sky. Elgar’nan could see the green magic of Beyond ripping holes in Dread Wolf’s prison, and it made him worried. What if others would try to escape too? They might not have the advantage he had, a convenient and willing host body. They would be pulled through the Veil, only to twist and die.  
“I have to close it.”, he said forlornly. “For safety.”  
“Yes.” Cassandra said. “But how are you planning to do it?”  
“I’m sure I’ll figure out something.” Elgar’nan replied, looking at his hand. He was starting to get really pissed at Fen’Harel. First the indignity of imprisonment, then the pain of getting out, then his host was revealed to be branded by their captor and now he had to act as unwilling jailor.

The shemlen were staring at him, whispering and muttering, but Elgar’nan ignored it. He was used at being stared at. He was the God of Vengeance and Fatherhood, beautiful and clever, and it was only natural that others admired him.  
“They have decided you are guilty of Divine’s death.” Cassandra warned him as they walked along the battlements. “The Conclave was only chance for peace, and they need someone to blame.”  
“What do you think about that?” Elgar’nan asked curiously.  
“I’m not yet sure. You survived an explosion which killed everyone else. Then you fell from the rift, unharmed. The soldiers swear there was a man behind you. Shining with unearthly light. Some think it must have been the Maker.” Cassandra explained as they hurried along. “Do you remember any of that?”  
“I remember that, yes.” Elgar’nan said, but then the mark on his hand reacted violently to proximity of Breach, sending him on his knees.  
“Fenedhis lasa!” he cursed, his face twisting in pain. “What does a man have to do around here to get a moment’s respite?”  
Cassandra gave him odd look but said nothing, pursing her lips and helping him up.  
And of course, less than a hundred meters later a bridge collapsed under them.

The sword he found was rather clunky, but far better than a spider leg. Elgar’nan grabbed it and charged at the demons. At first, the neural pathways of his borrowed body didn’t react as quickly as he would have liked, unaccustomed as they were, and a blast got through, making him cry out. But dealing destruction was Elgar’nan’s trade, and he would not be slowed by such things as wrong body or lack of magic. Demons were familiar enemy, and nothing compared to battling Forgotten Ones.  
When they were hacked in pieces and their essence vanished through the Veil, Elgar’nan finally registered the blunt, blooming pain in his breast.  
“How do women put up these things?” he asked from Cassandra. “I never knew it would hurt so much to get a hit on boobs. Damn.”  
Cassandra didn’t seem compassionate. She was holding her sword, advancing on him.  
“Put your weapon down.” she said threateningly.  
“Why?” Elgar’nan asked irritably. “You want to drag me through a demon-infested valley, and now you are complaining about my performance? I know I’m not at my best right now, but I would prefer not to die on our way to Breach.”  
“I wasn’t complaining about your performance.” Cassandra began irritably. She looked at Elgar’nan, making a disgruntled noise. The sheer annoyance of it made Elgar’nan feel appreciated, and he smiled at Cassandra, well pleased.  
“Come on then.” he urged her, taking shemlen’s arm. “We have more killing to do. As soon as this is done, I need you to get me a better armor. Yours looks much more functional than mine, and it would not do to get distracted by my new breasts at critical moment.”  
“I think you are still dazed.” Cassandra stated. “I’m not sure if I should let you fight at your condition. Maybe you hit your head when you fell from the rift.”  
“If I say that I did, will you kiss me to make it better?” Elgar’nan asked hopefully. He did like her glare. Cassandra made another disgruntled noise, pulled her arm away and pointed sternly at the demons approaching.

 

Killing demons kept Elgar’nan busy, and he felt he was getting hang techniques stored in this body’s muscle memory. Apparently his slave had fought two-handed. Elgar’nan preferred dual-wielding because it was harder and he liked to shine with his skills. Also, nothing cut so fine figure of a man than wearing a fine armor with a cape and trailing two swords behind him, dripping blood on the dust. Senris, the leader of his sentinels, had always complained about dulling his blades with sand and the dangers of wearing a cloak in battle, but Elgar’nan was above such things as practicality, and justly proud of it.  
He heard the sounds of another battle ahead, and ran ahead, not staying to listen what Cassandra said. There were some shemlen fighting demons already, and Elgar’nan pushed through them. He hated others stealing his kills, and there was a further need of testing.

There was a little rift blazing above him, and Elgar’nan was waiting to see if any more demons would come through so he could test whether Ring of Pain worked. The basic reaver techniques could prove to be extremely useful since he couldn’t heal himself without his magic.  
“Quickly! Before more come through!”, a man’s voice yelled from his left, and Elgar’nan barely had time to look who it was before an elven man, a mage, grabbed his hand and held it against rift. He hissed with anger and thought to break man’s neck for touching him without permission, but his borrowed body spasmed when the mark on his hand activated and Dread Wolf’s magic started stitching the Veil back together.

Then Elgar’nan turned his head and saw the Dread Wolf himself holding his hand.

He snatched his hand back and retreated immediately, almost bumping into Cassandra. It was Fen’Harel. The Dread Wolf had lost all his hair and most of his fashion sense, judging by shabby clothes which screamed “homeless apostate”, but Elgar’nan knew that face. He knew that stupid little smile and the faint arrogance so clearly written in Fen’Harel’s posture as he stood there, holding his staff. It was the very expression Fen’Harel always wore when he was tricking someone, luring them into a trap. Just like Dread Wolf had lured them into his prison.  
And he had magic, while Elgar’nan did not.  
“Are you all right?” Cassandra asked, stepping between Elgar’nan and Fen’Harel. Oh, what a foolish, unknown mortal to put herself between gods.  
“You should have warned her before you did that.” Cassandra scolded the Dread Wolf. “Not everyone is comfortable with illegal magic.”  
“I did nothing.” Fen’Harel said. “It was all her, or to be exact, the mark on her palm. Your prisoner is no mage, but I find it difficult to believe any mage would have such power.”  
A liar, Elgar’nan wanted to scream.  
“He kept the mark from killing you while you slept.” a durgen’len said cheerily. “I’m Varric, by the way. The crossbow is Bianca.”  
“I’m Solas.” Fen’Harel offered him a false name.  
Elgar’nan couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. If Fen’Harel knew he had escaped, why wouldn’t Dread Wolf kill Elgar’nan while he slept? Or imprisoned him again? And why Fen’Harel was here at all, pretending to be a humble mage, when he was the only god still walking on earth? Was this another of his tricks? A ploy? Was he playing cat and mouse with Elgar’nan, knowing he was weak and nearly powerless? Or was Fen’Harel truly unknowing of what was in front of him? It could be possible. Elgar’nan had no magic, and he was currently living in a body of a woman. It was not the way he would have presented himself to anyone, especially not to his sworn enemy, had he any choice in the matter.  
They were staring at him, clearly waiting for something.  
“You haven’t told us your name.” Cassandra finally said.  
“It’s... Lavellan.” Elgar’nan said, remembering the slave had called herself a hunter of Lavellan. He had no idea of her first name, if she had any. It hadn’t occurred for him to ask.  
“Lavellan? Is it your given name, or the name of your clan? You Dalish live in clans, is that right?” Varric asked curiously.  
“This is not the time to start writing another book of lies, Varric. We must get to the temple of Sacred Ashes.”, Cassandra said firmly. “Move along.”  
Elgar’nan jumped over a fence and started walking. Anything was preferable to chatting with the Dread Wolf.

“So, I’ve heard that you stepped out from the Breach, and there was a man behind you.” Varric began. “What happened?”  
“I remember only bits and pieces. I don’t know how I got there, and I’m afraid I remember nothing of my past, either. First thing I remember is running, and the Divine was with me. Legions of bloodthirsty creatures hunted us, and we surely would have perished without faith.” Elgar’nan replied, starting to spun a story. “Poor Divine had no weapons, and she begged help from her gods—“  
“There is only one god, the Maker.” Cassandra interrupted.  
“How would I know?” Elgar’nan asked, feeling irked. “Until now, I have known only the Creators, as you can clearly see.” he pointed at his vallaslin.  
“But yes, Divine begged help from her god, and he appeared in all his glory.” Elgar’nan continued. “I was stricken by his unearthly beauty and the limitless wisdom shining from his perfect features. I have never seen anything so magnificent. He benevolently saved us from terrible predators of Beyond, but it was too late for poor Divine. She breathed her last breath before perishing in her Maker’s arms...”  
Slowly, the distrust on Cassandra’s face was changing into something else. A fragile hope. Elgar’nan knew that type. The woman was a true believer, and played right, she would make a most devout servant. He needed those if he was to survive the company of Dread Wolf.  
“Saddened by loss of his most faithful servant, Maker turned to face the abominations alone. He pushed me down, and my heart wept for his valiant bravery and selflessness. I fell, and fell. And then I woke up in the cell, branded with this mark.” Elgar’nan lifted up his hand.  
His companions were utterly silent.  
“Shit, what a story.” Varric finally gushed.

There was an argument with ugly shemlen with fur on his face, but Elgar’nan wasn’t worried. Cassandra practically walked over the man. It was right. Authority should be taken, and Elgar’nan proved his own words by ordering a charge instead of slippery mountain path. It was best to finish this business with Breach as soon as possible, so he could start thinking how to outwit the Dread Wolf and find a way to free his brethren.

A rift later they got to temple of Sacred Ashes, and Elgar’nan was hit by a stroke of luck. As they started walking down towards the giant rift, a scene started playing around them. Elgar’nan knew very well that Beyond held memories, reflections of strong actions, and the place was filled with tainted lyrium. So someone, or something – maybe the darkspawn with a glowing ball like the slave had mentioned – had captured Cassandra’s Divine, who cried for help. The slave had answered, and they both had gotten sucked up by the Breach. Elgar’nan held no ill will towards the unknown voice who had ordered to kill his slave. Without the Breach, he would be still stuck in Dread Wolf’s prison.  
He could tell the moment when Cassandra decided that he was innocent. Hearing the Divine call for help was all the proof Cassandra needed to believe a story she already wanted to believe. Elgar’nan knew there would be no trial for him, no matter what Chancellor shemlen said. It was good. He had seen enough cells for one immortal lifetime.

“It’s a demon!” Cassandra yelled. “We must slay it. Protect the Herald.”  
Herald, eh? Elgar’nan liked his usual titles far more, but he could play along with that. Pulling his sword, he ran towards the demon, roaring a challenge.

 

 


	3. Hinterlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra tries to decide whether their new Herald is mentally ill or just plain strange.

He woke up in unfamiliar surroundings again. This time it was not a cell, but a small cabin with a creaking shemlen bed. After opening his eyes for long enough to see there was no immediate danger in sight, Elgar’nan decided to use the quiet moment to plan what to do next.

Yesterday’s battle had given him a crucial piece of information. The creature who had captured Divine and opened the Breach. The glowing ball –how could he have been so slow to understand. Somehow the creature had gotten hold on somebody’s orb, and fumbled ignorantly until it opened the Breach. Or maybe his goal had been setting them free at first place, but the creature had simply done a botched job. Whatever the creature was, Elgar’nan had to find it. The orb would be the weapon he needed to fight the Dread Wolf and save everyone.  
Now that he had a plan, he could figure out the necessary details as he went on. Stretching in the bed, Elgar’nan turned on his stomach to sleep a bit longer. But something was... Oh, yes. The body problem. He sat up, dropping the covers to his waist. There was a large bruise from yesterday, causing him discomfort. Tentatively, he brushed his fingers over a nipple. A very interesting sensation followed, leaving him to feel a bit flushed. A further study was definitely required.

There was a knock on the door. An elf dressed in servant’s garb came in, carrying a box of herbs.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, my lady.” he said, lowering his eyes a moment too late. Elgar’nan considered him. He was moderately handsome – obviously nothing compared to his own true form, but not bad -, clean and likely willing. He had stared at Elgar’nan’s borrowed body longer than was strictly respectful. Generally, Elgar’nan preferred women, but it was best to start with basics, first.  
“Lady Cassandra asked you to come to Chantry as soon as you wake up.”, the man continued.  
“I will simply tell her that I like to sleep late.” Elgar’nan said, walking across the room naked and latching the door shut.

 

“Where were you?” Cassandra snapped as Elgar’nan finally appeared in the Chantry. “We have been waiting for you for hours!”  
“Ir abelas.” he said absently, bending to study the map on war table. “Getting rid of my virginity was unexpected problem and it slowed things down a bit compared to my original schedule.”  
“What?” Cassandra said, not believing her own ears. Cullen had turned bright red, and Josephine tried very hard to look professional. The corners of Leliana’s mouth were twitching.  
“I think that next time will be better.” Elgar’nan remarked, picking up Divine’s writ and flipping through it. He couldn’t read the shemlen writing.  
“It usually is.”, Leliana said helpfully.  
“Good to know. When I was a man, I had no such problems.” Elgar’nan said. “Now, about the Breach. I have met Leliana and the Commander before, but I believe I haven’t met you.”  
“Andaran atishan, mistress Lavellan.” Josephine smiled. “I’m lady Josephine Montilyet, a diplomat originally from Antiva, and we have been talking about the best way to close the Breach and find those responsible.”  
“Chancellor Roderick wanted to throw you in chains and take to Val Royeaux, but Cassandra threw a tantrum, telling him we are going to declare Inquisition reborn.”, Leliana explained.  
“She was quite frightening.” Cullen added.  
“I’m sorry to have missed it.”, Elgar’nan looked at Cassandra. “I would have enjoyed seeing you in temper.”  
“You wouldn’t.”, Cassandra refused. “I’m always too quick to act.”  
“I find much to admire in fierce spirits.” Elgar’nan said, smiling at her.  
The advisors looked at each other, and Cassandra who felt clearly uncomfortable.  
“Let’s just talk about the Divine’s writ and Inquisition.” Josephine suggested. “We have a ceremony planned, if you are willing to help.”  
“Of course. I know everything about importance of ceremonial appearances.” Elgar’nan assured her.

\--

“Leliana.”, Cassandra said after the official declaration of Inquisition’s rebirth. “We need to have a word about the Herald.”  
Leliana glanced at Herald, who was arguing heatedly about the beige pyjama outfit with Josephine and nodded. She had surprisingly sophisticated taste in clothes for a Dalish hunter, and clearly she felt strongly about her appearance. As soon as she had seen the pyjamas Josephine offered, the Herald had announced that they should kill the beige monstrosity with fire.  
“Let’s take a walk.” Leliana suggested, leading Cassandra through the back door of Haven’s Chantry.

They walked little ways from the village before Cassandra spoke:  
“So. Do you think her story about Divine is genuine?”  
“I don’t know.” Leliana admitted. “My agents have found out that there were a group of three Dalish hunters sent by their clan to spy on proceedings. The clan, Lavellan, roams in northern Free Marches, and their Keeper expressed an interest in human affairs. “  
“I know only that I heard Divine calling her for help. And I can’t help but thinking that she is exactly what we need, at our moment of need.” Cassandra said, spreading her arms in frustration. “But some things don’t just add up.”  
“I know.” Leliana nodded. “All Dalish elves I have ever met were reserved among humans. But our Herald seems to avoid Solas like plague, preferring our company. And there was that remark during our interrogation about priests and chanting. What if she is a demon?”  
“No.”, Cassandra sighed. “I already thought of that when she first appeared. I sent Cullen to recite the litany of Adralla while Solas treated her, and nothing happened. I’m trained to seek out possessed mages, and she isn’t a mage. But there is something odd about her. She repeatedly refers herself as a man.”  
“Maybe she feels she has been born into wrong body.” Leliana suggested.  
“I don’t think that’s it.”, Cassandra frowned. “It’s more like... She’s genuinely surprised by obvious things. Like it hurts if you get hit on breast. And this morning. In my experience, people usually know whether they are virgins or not.”  
“That’s true.” Leliana agreed. “But she seems helpful, so far, and we need her. The Breach must be closed properly, and I’m getting reports of rifts appearing all over Thedas.”  
They were quiet for a moment, before Leliana offered:  
“Maybe she is just mentally ill. Solas said that nobody has attempted to enter bodily in the Fade after the first darkspawn. It is a miracle that she survived at all, mind intact or not.”  
“I fear that is the most likely option.” Cassandra sighed.  
“Why don’t you just ask her when you go to Hinterlands? She seems to like you.”  
“If I must.” Cassandra said reluctantly. “All that flirting is getting on my nerves.”

They had been little longer than a week in Hinterlands, and Cassandra had started to think that her earlier opinion of Herald’s shattered mind might not be true. The woman had persuaded Mother Giselle to lend her support to Inquisition, which was commendable. She had not been too surprised when the Herald wiped out the templar encampment near the river, because she already knew the elf was fearsome fighter. Seeing her single-handedly killing a group of apostates hiding inside ice cave had been unsettling, but the recruiting business was the final nail on her coffin. The woman had highly questionable morality, and excellent head for strategy.  
“So you met a dangerous mage willing to kill you, and ended up seducing her instead. Wonderful. The Inquisition needs people like you.” the Herald grinned, smiling at Ritts. The shameless scout beamed right back at her. Cassandra was almost sure the Herald was going to ‘sleep late’ again, and she did see Ritts stalking in the camp at late hour, but Varric reported that apparently their leader only bedded elves.  
“I like a man who takes initiative.” the Herald told Corporal Vale. “Your next task is to recruit skilled refugees for Inquisition. We must continue stealing enemy resources to strengthen ourselves.”  
“Your bride is dead.” the Herald said to Lord Bertrand. “If they tell you that time heals all wounds, they lie. But I have something I can offer you. Vengeance, overflowing and sweet. Give your sword to Inquisition, and you will find my gift far better than any justice.”  
“I have to say that your rift is the most pitiful candidate for godhood I’ve ever encountered. If your faith needed something to believe in so badly, believe in the Inquisition instead.” the Herald scolded Speaker Anais. “Listen and gather information, and do not fail me like your last master.”  
“Your lover is dead.” the Herald spoke to Enchanter Ellandra. “And if you don’t act, what remains of your world will burn to ashes. It is no pleasure to be last of your kind. You have your magic and two working hands; it’s far better to join us than listen your what-if’s from one day to another.”

“So, the horse master decided to join the Inquisition too?” Varric asked as they sat around the fire, eating. “What did you say to him?”  
“I told that sending horses without a horse master is as bad as a group of priests without divine guidance. It will only end in trouble, when everyone starts having their own ideas about rules.” the Herald replied.  
“You are making examples of holy mothers and Divine, now?” Cassandra asked sharply.  
“It could be thought that way, too.” the Herald said lightly.  
“She is right about the priests. I’ve seen conflicts begin just like the Herald described.” Solas joined the discussion.  
“Have you, now?” Herald asked with odd bitterness.  
“I have seen many things in the Fade during my travels. Old memories are filled with strife and turmoil. These things rarely change although years pass. There are always people who trust too blindly, and other people who refuse to see the evil in world they have built. It is up to few to act if many are corrupt.” Solas said, handing his plate to Varric for a fill. “As we are seeing with Inquisition, one person can indeed change the world if she has enough supporters.”  
“I think I have lost my appetite.” Herald said suddenly, leaving her plate on the ground and leaving towards ravine.  
“What was that about?” Varric asked.  
“Maybe I offended some Dalish sensibilities.” Solas wondered, clearly clueless. “She barely speaks to me as it is, and I’m becoming worried that it will keep her from asking guidance in matters concerning magic.”  
“I will go to speak with her.”, Cassandra gave in.

She found the Herald sitting by the ravine and throwing rocks into stream.  
“I can leave if you want to be alone.” Cassandra offered.  
“No. You may stay. I have had my fill of seclusion.” she said, sending a stone skipping with a flick of wrist.   
“Did Solas say something to offend you?” Cassandra asked seriously.  
“He has said plenty of things to offend me, but just now?” the Herald said, turning to look at Cassandra. “I used to have a family once. A wife whom I loved, children who were sometimes good and sometimes they needed to be yelled at. Then my wife was murdered and the children were taken away from me. By a man, a mage whom we trusted too blindly.”  
“I’m sorry.” Cassandra said. She wasn’t good at gestures of compassion, but she sat down next to her.  
“You are not the one who should apologise.” the Herald replied. She threw another rock, and this time, it made a little flip before jumping thrice.  
“I lost my parents when they participated in a coup. I and my brother were pardoned because we were still children, and an uncle took us in. Anthony was killed some years later.” Cassandra said. “I hated the well-wishers, and the people who came to offer fake compassion just so they could gawk and whisper at a personal tragedy. A person’s heart is not something which should be displayed at another’s pleasure.”  
“I won’t show you mine if you don’t show me yours.” the Herald promised with utmost seriousness.  
Cassandra considered it and offered her hand to shake.  
“It’s a deal.”  
“Excellent. Now look, Cassandra. There is a druffalo on the other side of the ravine. I think it’s the one we needed."

 

Although Cassandra felt that she had learned something of Herald, it still didn’t mean they got along any better. It was becoming more a rule than exception that they never got moving before midday, and it was Herald’s fault.  
“Willing to bet on what comes out from her tent this morning?” Varric asked good-naturedly as he watched the kettle boiling.  
“No.”, Cassandra snapped. “One’s personal affairs should be kept private.”  
“When one is a religious figure, there is no such thing as a private life.” Solas remarked. “It is something the Herald and advisors would do well to consider.”  
“Then why don’t you speak about this to her yourself?” Cassandra asked, feeling irked. “I’m not a messenger boy.”  
“The Herald listens to you, while I doubt she would trust me to offer insight. A misguided Dalish superiority, no doubt.”, Solas said, his face twisting in a sneer as he smelled the tea leaves Varric added to kettle.  
“There she comes.” Varric noted as Herald’s tent flap was pulled aside.

A Dalish elf slipped out from Herald’s tent. He was hastily dressed and had a languid expression on his face.  
“Good morning.” Varric greeted. “Would you care for tea?”  
“No.”, the elf seemed to realize he had company. “I must travel back to my clan in haste and tell them about the Herald.”  
“Is she really that good?” Varric asked.  
“You have no idea, durgen’len, what it feels like when divinity lays in your arms.” the hunter said, still looking dazed.  
“Is she proselytizing you?” Cassandra asked, shocked.  
The hunter ignored her question and turned towards tent. Two more elves, a man and woman, crawled out, wearing identically shaken expressions. They took the weapons hunter offered and left towards north without as much as a word to anyone in the camp.

The tent flap moved aside again, and the Herald walked out, stark naked. She stretched her shoulders with pleased yawn.  
“You there.” she addressed a shocked Inquisition soldier. “Get me a towel. A fluffy one.”  
She walked past Solas, heading towards the lake behind a ridge.  
“Your worship.” the requisition officer said hurriedly. “You can’t go there. There might be demons. And you... aren’t dressed.”  
“I’m too sticky to put any clothes on.” Herald explained with small words like speaking to a child. “It would be gross. Being gross is beneath me. Just be a good shemlen and find me clean clothes after I’ve finished my bath.”

It was evident that the Herald was on good mood. Cassandra could hear her singing something in elvish. She had heard a few elvish songs in Orlesian court when she had been guarding the Divine, but they had sounded different. The tunes were usually haunting and sad, while this one sounded... nothing like those.  
Solas’ ears twitched and suddenly he swallowed his drink wrong, starting to couch violently. A slightly disturbed, yet amused expression spread on his face as he listened Herald’s song.  
“I had no idea the Dalish remember that.” Solas said, shaking his head in mirth.  
“What is it? A lament about Arlathan?” Varric asked, ever curious for new information for a book Cassandra suspected was in works.  
“Not precisely.” Solas said. “She’s singing about shaking one’s ass.”

Cassandra was tasked with bringing the Herald her fluffy towel and clean clothes.  
“Oh, they tell me I’m a bad boy.” the Herald hummed, floating in the lake. “All the ladies look at me and act coy.”  
“Let’s get something straight.” Cassandra said, glaring at the Herald. “Are you a man or a woman? Leliana thinks you are mentally ill after being physically in the Fade, but I think you are just plain odd.”  
The Herald flipped on her stomach and started swimming towards Cassandra. She pulled her upper body up on the edge of dock easily and smiled sweetly at Cassandra.  
“If I tell you, you must promise not to tell anyone else.”  
“All right.” Cassandra said slowly. “Asking for confidence in matter such as this is an honourable request.”  
“A man. Until recent events in the Fade.”  
Cassandra’s eyes widened.  
“Are you telling me the truth?”  
“Why would I lie about something like this? I’m not particularly pleased with being a woman, but there is nothing I can do about it at the moment. I have no magic.” Herald sighed. “Being a man was far better than this. Breasts are sensitive to cold, sex is somewhat baffling despite all my efforts, and I had enough mood swings as it was.”  
“But why?”  
“Maybe your Maker has a questionable sense of humour. Or he wants only female servants.” the Herald shrugged, climbing from the lake and wrapping the towel around her waist. Cassandra’s eyes narrowed. It was yet another masculine habit. Women usually covered their breasts, too.  
“I think I believe you.” she said.  
“I would prefer if you called me Elgar’nan. In private.” the Herald said. “I don’t care to advertise my condition to others, and I don’t want a flat-ear like Solas poking me. In any way. It’s hard enough for people to accept a Dalish elf as the Herald of Andraste.”  
“Elgar’nan? Wasn’t he one of the heathen gods?” Cassandra said, quickly realizing her blunder. “I mean your Creators.”  
Elgar’nan flashed a smile at her and said:  
“My family is very religious.”

 

 

 


	4. All time low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan's life reaches the all time low. The reason? Nug beige granny pants.  
> Someone is going to pay for this.

There was a note on Herald’s cabin door, written in elvish. Cassandra ripped it off with a disgruntled noise and handed it to Solas. Their party of three was armoured and ready to travel to Val Royeaux.   
“I know you don’t like me writing lies, Seeker, but I can’t write that Herald of Andraste missed the meeting with Chantry mothers because she was yet again banging elven servants in her cabin.” Varric sighed.  
“I don’t think that is the case.” Solas said, handing the note back to Cassandra. “This says: Go away. I have cramps.”  
Cassandra looked up in the sky and wondered why, why Maker had seen fit to punish her like this. Usually, she wouldn’t listen women using their monthly bleeding as an excuse, but the Herald was... a special case.   
“I’ll deal with it.”, she said although she didn’t want to. “We’ll leave on regular time.”  
“After midday?” Varric asked.  
“After midday.” Cassandra confirmed with a sigh.

“You can’t be serious.” Elgar’nan said unhappily, staring a pile of folded flannel squares Cassandra had placed on the table.   
“You claimed you had a wife. You can’t be wholly ignorant about what women use.” Cassandra said firmly.  
“I’m fairly certain she used some kind of spell. You can’t expect me to believe that people walk around with stinky, wet fabric stuffed between their legs. How does it even stay there?”  
Cassandra glared at Elgar’nan, but he looked honestly perplexed.   
“You are supposed to fold them in your underpants.” Cassandra told slowly, like speaking to a child.  
“I don’t wear those.” Elgar’nan informed her. “It can’t be healthy to block the air circulation in moist parts of a body.”  
“Women aren’t constantly wet.” Cassandra crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.  
Elgar’nan frowned.   
“Maybe we just know different sort of women.” he finally offered.   
“Or we are different sort of women.” Cassandra said sarcastically, opening his wardrobe and throwing him a pair of granny pants in nug beige. “Put these on.”  
Elgar’nan stared at them.   
“I never thought I would sink so low.” he groaned. “I swear, Fen’Harel is going to pay for this.”

 

\--

She had not been surprised to see how well he had handled the Chantry Mothers and Lord Seeker. Elgar’nan was good at recruiting people. He seemed always to find the right words to stir faith and devotion in the hearts of people. When he spoke about closing the Breach and serving the Maker’s will, there was passion in his voice which made Cassandra’s knees soft. Not that she would ever admit it to anyone, but she kept wondering if this was the unquenchable flame burning in the hearts of faithful like Chant said.

They had returned from Val Royeaux with a new mage, whom Elgar’nan evidently liked. Cassandra felt a bit forsaken because she had not been invited to join the party after Vivienne was recruited. But it might have been for the best, because she certainly did not agree with the news she had heard from Solas. It was these news which sent her banging the door of Herald’s cabin in Haven.   
“Solas say that you killed a woman who wanted to join the Inquisition.” Cassandra had never been one to beat around in bushes. “I need you to tell me why.”  
Elgar’nan sighed and turned towards her. He crossed his legs and leaned backwards in his rickety chair. Another mannish gesture. Maker, now that Cassandra knew, she couldn’t understand how others didn’t see the man behind woman’s tattooed face and soft curve of breasts.   
“You know as well as I that we are at war against an enemy who hides in shadows. Inquisition is young, and relatively powerless, but not every offer made to us is worth taking. I don’t have time or patience for playing games when peoples’ lives are at stake.” Elgar’nan told her calmly. “If I had let her live, she would held a grudge for not being accepted, and brought trouble for us. Without her, their organisation is too loose to cause significant drawbacks. A bunch of children playing stupid tricks on people.”  
“That is not an explanation.” Cassandra said steadfastly.  
“I don’t find it amusing to play hide and seek around Val Royeaux. This woman, Sera, could not offer spies or soldiers to Inquisition. She wanted to join, but she saw nothing wrong in playing with us. She lured us in a trap, and expected to be forgiven the moment she told it was just a joke. I’m not anyone’s fool. I have commanded enough people to _know_ her type.” Elgar’nan’s voice turned bitter. “They think they are so clever. And people should just laugh at their antics, because if you don’t, you’re spoilsport. And one day, when they feel slighted for one reason or another, those jokes turn deadly. But nobody pays any attention, because tricking people is what they do. They’re funny like that. Until they are _not_.”  
“Ah.” Cassandra said, blinking. “I see.”  
“I thought you might.” Elgar’nan nodded. “There are always people like that in every family.”  
Cassandra was going to stand up and leave, but Elgar’nan interrupted her.   
“Wait. I went shopping with Vivienne, and I bought you something.”  
He pushed a black box to her, tied with a golden ribbon.   
“What’s this?” Cassandra asked suspiciously.  
“You are too proud and beautiful for nug-coloured granny pants.” Elgar’nan said. “And I wanted to thank you. For your help.”  
Cassandra peeked inside box and slammed it shut.   
“You can’t buy me underwear!” she snapped, staring at Elgar’nan. “You are the Herald of Andraste! Maker’s Chosen! And you are a man. It’s not… It’s simply not right.”  
“It’s a gesture of friendship.” he said sharply, his eyes sparkling with annoyance. “I wasn’t trying to get into your pants. It doesn’t make you a better person to deny all beautiful and nice things world could offer.”  
“Oh? So I should wear purple silk just because it’s purple silk?” Cassandra asked, standing up.  
“Yes! Or burn it if you like! I don’t care what you do with it, just that you accept it. ”, Elgar’nan stood up too, glaring at her. “I don’t like being in your debt. This shemlen world is foreign to me. I can’t even read the letters Josephine writes in my name. You have helped me, and I’m trying to return the favour. You going all prudish over a simple gift is insulting. If you don’t like it, just say it!”  
Cassandra was silent, staring at him. Elgar’nan didn’t like it. He felt insulted, and embarrassed.   
“Give it back.” he demanded. “It’s obvious I misunderstood.”  
“No.”, Cassandra said firmly, holding her chin high. “I’m keeping it. And the reading lessons begin tomorrow.”  
She turned around and strode out, holding her black box against her chest. Elgar’nan sank back into his chair, shaking his head. Void, the woman was a handful. Impossible to get along with. And the fiercest spirit he had seen since he had jumped into this blighted world.

\--

 

“Leliana’s suggestion is the best one. Send the spies to contact Clan Lavellan.”, Elgar’nan commanded. “They deserve concrete actions instead of empty assurances.”  
The spymaster nodded, and Elgar’nan placed the little painted card under the paperweight on the war table. The system was crude compared to magic map he had used to plan the movements of elvhen army, and sometimes he sorely missed the option to scry the environment by choosing an area from the map. It had been most useful when planning a battle. Of course, Inquisition was young and lacked both resources and finances for extravagance, but Elgar’nan did not doubt there would be battles. Cullen was passable commander, and Elgar’nan was too shrewd not to admit that he didn’t have clear idea of what to expect from ragtag shemlen army. They were way below his usual standards, and it would be hard to explain how a Dalish hunter had forgotten more about siege engines than Cullen had ever learned.  
“Did we have anything else for today?” he asked from his advisors. “Is everything set up for traveling to Therinfal Redoubt?”  
“Ten representatives of influential Orlesian noble houses have gathered there and will accompany you to meet the Lord Seeker.”, Josephine said helpfully.   
“I have a report on them for you to read.” Leliana added.   
Elgar’nan grimaced.   
“Don’t look like that, mistress Lavellan. You have progressed very well with your reading. This will be useful exercise.” Josephine scolded.  
“One day, you have to start reading other things than Swords and Shields.” Leliana added.   
“I happen to like romantic literature.” Elgar’nan said irritably. “I don’t like reports.”  
“There is one thing more.” Josephine consulted her ever-present list. “Solas is unhappy with your decision not to go to Redcliffe. He wants to discuss it with you.”  
“Tell him that he can go suck wolf’s balls.” Elgar’nan snapped. “If he’s flexible enough.”  
The advisors looked at each other.   
“What was that?” Cullen asked.  
“Elven insult.” Elgar’nan replied.   
“Every day brings something new.” Josephine’s smile was a bit forced. “Also, Solas mentioned something about wanting to seek an ancient elvhen artefact in Hinterlands. “  
“Tell him I will take him to Therinfal and talk with him after the templars have been dealt with.” Elgar’nan said between gritted teeth. Damned Fen’Harel, luring him with promises of artefacts. The man was still too clever for his own good.   


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Elgar'nan drives Envy into deep depression. Solas understands there is something very wrong with the Herald.


	5. Therinfal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan meets the Envy demon.

Elgar’nan was usually accommodative to rituals, but this particular one made no sense. It didn’t even have any magic included, and he didn’t like voicing his opinions in front of lord Abernache and his likes. In his experience, it was generally better to restrain from making any definite statements. It gave him easy way to change his opinions later, and kept everyone on their toes, trying to guess how to best please him. Definite truths weren’t Elgar’nan’s thing. Way too much trouble.  
“If Lord Seeker wants to know what I think of the Chantry, Maker and people, he can ask. With a fortress filled with templars, I would think he can find someone else to hoist his flags for him.” Elgar’nan said. “And if he does not, I have to think twice if his templars are worth my trouble.”  
“It’s a sacred rite of faith.” Cassandra said unhappily.  
“I disagree.” Elgar’nan replied. “Rites of faith should be true tests, or there is no reason to have any. How else Maker would know he has servants with some quality? He is a discerning patron, since he doesn’t accept elves, dwarves or mages but only human women, so don’t try to claim he accepts everyone. Of course, he can have some other mechanism to sort out the worthy followers, but I believe people should generally know when they fail a test of faith. If they don’t know they’re crap, how there can be any improvement to be had?”  
Ser Barris just stared at him, unable to say a single word.  
“I like the way you think.” lord Abernache announced. “It makes more sense than most sermons I’ve heard. Telling people they are not performing to expectations is something I’m very familiar with. It’s a burden of nobility.”  
“A word, Herald.” Cassandra said strictly, pulling Elgar’nan away from the group.

“You are doing it again!” she hissed as they got away from others.  
“Doing what?” Elgar’nan asked.  
“You are influencing people! Twisting things until they start to make sense, even though I know you are wrong!” Cassandra accused.  
“Go on.” he offered with a graceful nod.  
“You can’t speak about faith like it was some huge mechanic built to influence and persuade people! Rituals are sacred, and we are not supposed to understand their meaning! It’s not for us to know why Maker demands things from us.” Cassandra was starting to get angry. “You did it in Hinterlands, and you did it again in Val Royeaux, and you are doing it again even now! And I hate it, because it makes sense!”  
Elgar’nan considered her words.  
“You are right. Worship loses vital components of mystery and miraculous when it’s broken into working modules. It was good for you to remind me.”  
He took Cassandra’s gloved hand, and pressed it against his heart, covering her fingers with his.  
“Ir abelas.” Elgar’nan said seriously. “I didn’t mean to rob your faith. Any god would be proud to have a servant like you at his side. There are few whose spirit burns with devotion strong enough to light even the darkest of paths. I only regret these eyes are blind and I can’t see you in your true glory.”  
Cassandra stared at him with wide eyes. Her mouth opened and closed without sound, and astonishment shone from her face. Then a faint blush started to creep from her ears towards her cheeks.  
The Seeker pulled her hand away and almost ran back to where Solas and Varric stood.

Much to Cassandra’s embarrassment, her flight had not been missed by shrewd eyes of certain evil dwarf, and even the malformed templars suddenly attacking their party didn’t stop Varric.  
“I have title for my new book.” Varric announced as they waited for the Herald to loot whatever valuables templars had hidden behind locked doors. “It’s called ‘the Lady’s Herald’. It works both ways. You can pick whether you are the lady or the herald, Seeker.”  
“What are you implying?” Cassandra asked sharply.  
“Do you think I’m blind? You fancy our glorious leader.” Varric said in sing-song-voice. “You speak in private, she holds your hand against her heart, and you blush and storm away? Perfect.”  
“We were talking about religion!” Cassandra defended herself. “It wasn’t... She merely complimented my faith towards Maker!”  
“I’ve known all kinds of Andrastians. One wore Our Lady’s face on his crotch.” Varric noted.  
“Hand on one’s heart was a formal apology, most commonly used between trusted companions.” Solas joined the discussion. “It would be unbecoming to lie in such manner. What was said, was usually recorded down and preserved so everyone would know the exact words used. I’m surprised the Dalish remember.”  
“I...” Cassandra said in small voice, but then she saw Varric’s knowing smirk, and regained her composure. “I refuse to speak with you two. You misunderstand things. I’m not interested in women.”  
Cassandra turned away and went to see what was keeping Elgar’nan. His company was far preferable than continuing this stupid discussion. Like she had told Varric, she was not interested in women. And she didn’t certainly think of Herald in that way. No. Not at all. Even the very notion was just ridiculous.

“Cassandra, did you hear that?” the Herald asked as they climbed up the stairs.  
“Hear what?”  
“Distorted voice saying ‘prepare them, guide them to me’.”  
“I heard nothing.”  
“It’s probably a demon.”, Elgar’nan replied absently, cocking his head slightly to side as he listened. “Yes, definitely a demon. ‘You will be so much more’ is one of their stock lines.”  
Solas, who had followed their discussion, asked sharply:  
“How do you know so much about demons? I thought the Dalish abhorred all spirits, aggressive or not?”  
“Ah. There is the Lord Seeker.”, Elgar’nan noted as they reached the platform. He didn’t want to answer Dread Wolf’s question, so he strode closer to Lord Seeker who stood waiting, back turned towards them.  
Cassandra saw the Lord Seeker lifting up his chin, and then he suddenly turned towards them, grapping Elgar’nan’s collar.  
“At last!” the Lord Seeker hissed, pulling Elgar’nan backwards.  
Alarmed, Cassandra called upon her Seeker training, and summoned a blinding pillar of light to damage any demons nearby. At the same time, Solas cast a spell, and… something happened.

 

Cassandra found herself in a place unlike anything she had ever seen. It was Therinfal Redoubt, but different. There was mist floating around, and no sign of Elgar’nan or Lord Seeker. Solas was just standing up, brushing dirt from his clothes.  
“What happened?” Cassandra asked.  
“I’m not certain. But I suspect demonic influence. When Lord Seeker grabbed the Herald, I attempted to cast a spell of protection, and I assume you did likewise with your own abilities. Too many different powers clashed, and we got pulled in the attempt to possess the Herald.” Solas said seriously. “I don’t know yet what kind of demon is preying on her, but we must hurry. She is no mage or even a templar, and therefore unable to defend herself.”  
“Yes. We have to save the Herald. ”, Cassandra said, feeling of dread filling her. She had seen abominations, and dealt with several over her long career at Divine’s service. If the Herald were to become an abomination, there would be no hope left to Thedas or Inquisition.

It was hard to tell how long they had wandered in the empty dungeon. Every room was alike the last, and there was nothing to see except the mist swirling at their feet. Cassandra was starting to despair, when Solas suddenly motioned her to stop.  
There was a boy with a large hat standing near the next doorway.  
“Envy thought it could take him. But now it’s fragmenting, turning into something it was not.” the boy said in wondering voice. “I thought I should help, but he sent me away, because he didn’t want me to get hurt.”  
“What are you?” Cassandra asked warily, slipping her hand to her sword.  
“I’m Cole. I wanted to help him.”  
“Is there someone else locked in here? We are seeking the Herald? Mistress Lavellan, a Dalish hunter?” Solas asked.  
“She isn’t here. Only he is, and the Envy, crumbling into Despair. He laughs.” Cole said, hugging himself.  
Cassandra sighed. She didn’t want to break her word of confidentiality, but Elgar’nan could fail any moment, and... He was her friend. She couldn’t just leave him here on a mercy of a demon.  
“Cole.”, she said. “Is Elgar’nan here?”  
Solas turned like a whiplash. His pupils were black and wide, and his voice was almost a growl when he spoke:  
“Who did you ask for, Seeker?”  
“Is he here?” Cassandra ignored Solas, focusing on Cole.  
“Yes, he is. He is making Envy cry. This way.”

“Betrayed allies will curse your name! Like the first Inquisition, you will bring blood and ruin and fear!”  
“No, no, no.”, a man’s voice said. “That’s just pathetic. If you want to pretend being me, you simply have to do better than that. I would never be satisfied with such a meagre acknowledgement of my victory. After I won a war, thousands upon thousands of slaves transformed a mountain into my fiery image in a single afternoon.”  
A hideous scream echoed from the western corridor. Cassandra glanced at Solas, who looked odd, almost feverish. He was holding his staff so hard that his knuckles were white, and he looked like he was planning to take on a dragon.  
“I think you have enough substance left for one or two tries. Best to make them count, don’t you think?” the male voice continued. “Now, try again. I have better things to do than spend time in Fade with a failed excuse of an Envy demon.”  
The disembodied voice wept miserably.  
“Stop sobbing.” the man said coolly. “I’m giving you what you want. You are fulfilling your purpose.”  
“It’s just like him. Torturing spirits.” Solas spat, and started to ran towards west. Cassandra followed him, wanting to understand what was going on.

When they reached the chamber at the end of the corridor, Cassandra stopped at the doorway. This one room was vastly different than the rest of them. Golden mosaics decorated the walls, and the back wall was made of intricate pillars. She could see the open sky behind them. There was magnificent throne on the dais, and an elven man was lounging on it, his legs thrown over the armrest.  
A pitiful bag of limbs was sprawled over the floor. It was faintly pink and oddly built, and it took a moment before Cassandra recognized the shape she had seen in the holy writings of Seeker Order. Envy demon.  
“It seems that we have company.” the man said, turning and taking a proper sitting position.  
“You.”, the Envy hissed, trying to get off the floor but failing. “Seeker. I can be you. Tell me what you feel. Tell me what you think. Tell me what you are.”  
Cassandra felt a horrible, sucking sensation, but then it was suddenly interrupted by a bolt of magic.  
“You can’t have _Cassandra_ , you idiot.” the elven man said, sounding offended.  
The Envy disintegrated into bits and pieces of green slime before even those disappeared. The room started to darken, and the man sighed unhappily.  
“It was grand while it lasted.” he noted to his uninvited guests. “I just hate going back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Elgar'nan has some serious explaining to do. He also closes the Breach and fights Corypheus.


	6. Her heart shall burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan and Cassandra's first kiss is rudely interrupted by hundreds of enemies coming to kill him.  
> And then, a hour later, he walks alone to certain death. 
> 
> Her heart shall burn. With feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because everything is better with feels, here's the battle music from "Your heart shall burn"  
> https://youtu.be/UdCLZaxmD2M

The Herald of Andraste rode to Haven leading her very own army of conscripted templars. It was a splendid sight. The Order had donned their parade armours and they marched in formation, shields shining brightly like sun itself. Their voices rose to heaven as the templars sang the holy words of Chant. The people of Ferelden were awed by the procession and many of them knelt on the side of the road, asking to be blessed by Andraste’s chosen.  
“Just like old times, isn’t it?” Elgar’nan noted in elvish to Solas who was sulking. “Only thing missing is the priests swinging thuribles. I must ask if Mother Giselle can arrange a few.”  
Solas had never found Chantry sunburst as despicable as now, but he refrained from commenting. It would only have pleased Elgar’nan.  
“How long do you think you can keep up this pretence?” he asked instead. “I know who you are. I saw you. And it sickens me to think you are once again playing with peoples’ souls.”  
“You are toothless, Fen’Harel.” Elgar’nan said, keeping a smile on his face as he waved at people standing on the sides of the road leading to Haven. “Admit it. You could tell everyone who I am. But to make it credible, you would have to tell everyone who you are, too, and which one of us do you think they’ll believe? I, denying your mad claims, or you, telling that their lady Herald, a devoted servant of the Maker, is the man elves worship as their main god and you are his mortal enemy, the evil trickster. They’ll think that demons have driven you mad and make you Tranquil.”  
Solas hissed with anger.  
“After all, you are homeless apostate with no friends. While I have Inquisition, my own personal army of mage-killers, and the mark of your foci.” Elgar’nan finished. “If I were you, Dread Wolf, I would think carefully whether the gambit is worth it.”

Solas turned his horse around and returned to back row where Cassandra and Varric rode in icy silence. The Seeker and dwarf did not get along, and Varric wasn’t able to resist a chance to needle her a bit.  
“So, Seeker.” Elgar’nan heard Varric starting behind his back. “Why you are so pissed at our Herald for conscripting the Templars?”  
“I find no joy in destroying a part of the Chantry. It is not the right way.” Cassandra replied in clipped voice.  
“But I heard you saying that the templars were out of control, and they need to be kept in check.” Varric insisted. “And then you told the Herald that we don’t need the Order, just templars.”  
“I still did not want this.” Cassandra answered sullenly.  
“Maybe you should think before saying things, then. Someone might actually do what you want.” Varric suggested.

Elgar’nan knew his decision had nothing to do with Cassandra’s opinion. He had seen an army he needed to protect himself from the Dread Wolf, and taken it, like any sensible person would do. The modern mages had no hope at all to stand against Fen’Harel. The templars were marginally better. They had the advantage of being magicless people relying on lyrium, and it was something Elgar’nan had not seen in Elvhenan. He would have been fool to give up the element of surprise, no matter how small. Maybe he could pick up few things from them to make up his inability to use magic outside the Fade.

Closing the Breach was not high on Elgar’nan’s list of priorities, but it was something which had to be done, no matter how distasteful idea it was. Allies would go away after their mission was done, but conscripted templars would stay. He had plans for them. Dread Wolf would not stay silent forever, and he had to move fast, because the Inquisition was still his best option to regain the orb darkspawn had stolen. Time to get this Breach business over and done with.

\--

“You and the Herald fought bravely, but the decision should have been the Inquisition’s. Not yours alone.” Cullen snapped at Cassandra as soon as they entered the War Room.  
“Shut up and stop whining like a wolf cub!” the Herald cut in forcefully, stepping between Cassandra and Cullen. “I made the decision to conscript the templars, not Cassandra. One can’t lead a war by committee, Commander.”  
Cassandra watched the slight elven woman rising to her toes to stare Cullen in the eye, and for a moment, she imagined the Herald as a man she had seen in the Fade, lounging on his throne. There was more to Herald than they knew, and it made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t want to carry this secret.  
Looking at the advisors, the Herald continued:  
“You wanted the templars helping the Inquisition. I delivered them. Now deal with the army I brought so I can close the Breach and be done with this. I expect you to deliver twenty of their best to temple ruins within next hour. I have other things to do afterwards.”  
Turning at her heels, the Herald strode out, banging the door as she went.  
“She certainly has a bit of temper.” Josephine said diplomatically.  
“But she was right.” Leliana said. “No matter what you think of conscripting the Order, Cullen, we have what we need. The Breach is priority. We can sort other things later.”  
Cullen grumbled something under his breath but Cassandra knew he was going to give in. She was not surprised when a moment later the Commander announced that he was going to meet with the templars to decide how many of them were going to accompany the Herald to the Breach.  
Cassandra was planning to accompany him, when Leliana moved a bit closer.  
“I would appreciate if you asked the Herald what she is going to do after we close the Breach.”  
“Are you asking me to spy on the Herald, now?” Cassandra blurted.  
“Of course not.” Leliana smiled. “You would make a terrible spy. But you could ask. She might tell you.”

\--

The Breach was closed. It was done. Even Varric seemed less annoying than usually, or maybe it was just the cup of ale someone had pushed into Cassandra’s hand which was warming her heart. No matter what would be written of her decision to form the Inquisition, she had done something right. She had helped the Herald of Andraste to close the Breach.

Emptying her cup, she looked for the Herald. Cassandra wanted to thank him for what he had done. She still had hard time accepting what had happened to templars, but the order had been corrupt. She simply had not wanted things to end this way, but the decision had been made, and it was no use to complain about it because his choice had worked in the end.  
She would have expected to find Elgar’nan among the people celebrating, to pick an elf or two or three. He was not the type to sulk in his cabin, like Solas. But Cassandra couldn’t find him from the tavern, or around the bonfire. She checked his cabin too, but he wasn’t there. Finally she saw him standing on the stairs, watching the revelry below.  
“Why you aren’t there below?” she asked.  
The elven woman’s lips curved into a dry smile, and for a moment, Cassandra felt the same discomfort as in war room when the Herald had stepped between her and Cullen. It had been entirely different thing to know and believe Elgar’nan was a man inside woman’s body than to actually see _him_ in Fade. Now Cassandra didn’t know how to relate to him at all. It made things complicated. The man had been handsome and imposing, an arrogant king on his throne, and she had told him to stop being sissy and wear nug beige granny pants. Oh, Maker. The memory made Cassandra cringe.  
“It’s one of the requirements of being a believable religious figure.” Elgar’nan replied. “One must keep his distance from others, because people respect and awe only what they don’t know.”  
He kicked some snow over the edge and added:  
“Naturally, it makes extremely boring parties.”  
Cassandra narrowed her eyes.  
“For a Dalish hunter, you seem to know awful lot about religions and how they work.”  
Herald’s eyes twinkled with amusement.  
“Spit it out, Cass. I know you want to. You are terrible at playing games.”  
“I want to know what you are.” Cassandra said bluntly. “It’s clear that you and Solas have a history, and I’m not happy you didn’t tell me about it.”  
“And if I answer your questions, what will you do?” Elgar’nan asked. “Or more importantly, what will I have in return?”  
He was watching her like cat preying on a mouse. But Cassandra was no mouse. She held her chin up defiantly and crossed her arms over her chest.  
“I will decide whether I find your reasons acceptable, and whether I still trust you even though you lied to me. We are not some peddlers making a trade.”  
A strange sequence of different expressions flickered on Herald’s face. For a moment, Cassandra was certain Elgar’nan was going to attack her. But the offended look changed into hilariousness mixed with surprise. The Herald started to laugh.  
“It wasn’t funny!” Cassandra felt embarrassed and more than a bit offended. “There was nothing funny about what I said.”  
“My apologies.” Elgar’nan said, trying to stop laughter bubbling from his chest. He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and attempted to calm down, but couldn’t. The gall of the woman! Unbelievable! Nobody had ever dared to liken divine blessings to peddler's trade.  
“If you don’t stop laughing right now, I’m leaving.” Cassandra threatened.  
“All right, all right.” he said, drawing deep breaths. “But if you are going to interrogate me again, not here. I know a better place for it.”

The snow crunched under their boots when they walked across the frozen lake. The moon shone from above, and it was quiet except for the sounds of laughter and music coming from the Haven. Everyone not on duty were having fun and celebrating the closing of the Breach.  
“What’s deal with you and Solas?”  
“You remember the mage I mentioned?” Elgar’nan asked. “The one whom I trusted too much, and who took my children away after my wife’s death.”  
“Was it Solas?” Cassandra could scarcely believe it. Solas, for all his apostate talks about the Fade, seemed like a decent man.  
“My enemy had another name, but I have met Solas before.” Elgar’nan replied. “They share many opinions, goals I can’t agree with. When I fell from the Fade and saw Solas, I thought he was here to imprison me again on his behalf. I don’t have my magic, and I don’t even have my own body. So I was not eager to tell anyone what had happened. Do you think Cullen would have believed my story? Or Josephine? Even you treat me with suspicion, even though nothing has changed.”  
He looked at Cassandra in the eye and added:  
“You knew what I was before you saw me in the Fade. I told you weeks ago. Why my form makes such a big difference to you?”  
“Because it does!”  
“But why?” Elgar’nan crossed his arms over his chest.  
“Because you are a man!”  
“You knew I am a man.”, he wasn’t convinced. “And you seemed to be perfectly fine with it!”  
“But I’m not!”  
“We already established that. Stop going in circles and spit it out!” Elgar’nan took a hold of Cassandra’s shoulders, fighting the urge to shake some sense into her. He was tired after closing the Breach and losing his only friend in Inquisition stung worse than he was ready to admit.  
“It’s the dwarf!” Cassandra accused. “Varric.”  
“I know his name, Cassandra. You are making no sense!”  
“Varric claimed that I fancy you!” Cassandra’s cheeks were in flame for the sheer untruthfulness of dwarf’s claims as she pointed a blaming finger at Elgar’nan. “And I told him that he had misunderstood everything because I’m not interested in women! Some people just aren’t! I’m not!”  
“Yes, yes, I get it.”, Elgar’nan said, feeling exasperated. “You don’t feel drawn to women. And then what?”  
“Then you suddenly turned into a man! “Cassandra poked at his armoured chest hard enough to hurt her fingers. “The cursed dwarf was right, and it’s your fault! You made me a liar, and I just know Varric is laughing at me! He is somewhere right now laughing at me!”  
“Cassandra.” he said slowly.  
“If you laugh at me now, I swear I will kill you.” Cassandra threatened, and she meant it. She had never felt as mortified as now. She lifted her hands on her face, hiding behind them. Oh, Maker. What she had just said? Why she always let her tongue ran away with her? Why she never stopped to think before she spoke?  
“I’m not laughing at you.” she heard him say, and somehow it was worse, because it was true. She was used to people mocking her. Varric mocked her all the time. But Elgar’nan wasn’t laughing yet, and still held his hand on her shoulders. His grip was firm, and warm.  
“Just go away now. Please.”, Cassandra said, stubbornly hiding behind her hands and praying that the earth would swallow her whole and wipe out all memories of this embarrassing incident.  
“No.”  
“We will never speak of this again. Ever. You will never mention it.”, Cassandra demanded. “Go away.”  
She heard him sigh, and when he let go of her shoulders, she wanted to curl into small ball and howl. It was going just like she had known it would go. Now he would leave, go back to his cabin, pick an elf or two or three from the party and laugh with them at stupid Seeker who had blurted out the worst and most embarrassing confession ever.  
“Cassandra.” he said again, and carefully took her hands in his, pulling them off her face. Cassandra kept her eyes tightly closed. She was not going to look at him. It was only way not to die from shame.  
But her stubbornness was the very reason why she was completely unprepared for the kiss when he sneaked his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

It was like in Swords and Shields, but better. Some part of Cassandra’s mind was swooning for the sheer romance of it all. Moonlight, stars, dark sky and a frozen lake with only two of them. His hand around her shoulders was firm yet strong, and she parted her lips for him, feeling her knees go soft as the kiss deepened. She was--  
“Excuse me. I’m not usually the one to interrupt a romantic moment, but there is an army of angry Venatori at my heels, coming to kill you all.” an unfamiliar voice ruined Cassandra’s daydream. She opened her eyes and saw a Tevinter mage standing behind Elgar’nan. And the mountains around Haven, lit by hundreds of enemy torches.

 

\--

Solas had ran from his cabin as soon as he heard the bells of the Haven Chantry. The Inquisition forces were gathered at the gates. Elgar’nan was already there with his advisors, wearing the form of a Dalish woman, and Solas mentally scolded himself for not seeing the truth sooner. Even the way he stood, hands clasped behind his back, was eerily familiar. But this was not the time for regrets, or even the hate between them. Solas looked at the mountains around them, and felt cold. There was a massive army marching down to Haven, and he had seen enough war to know it was likely that the bulk of the force was still behind the mountaintop.  
“The mages of Redcliffe are serving under the command of the Venatori.” a brown-skinned noble holding a mage staff explained to Cullen and Elgar’nan. “The Venatori are led by a woman called Calpernia, and they all serve something called the Elder One.”  
Elgar’nan glanced at Solas, who shook his head minutely. He had never heard about something called the Elder One. The name was ponderous.  
“That is Calpernia.” the man continued, pointing towards the edge of nearest cliff. “And that is the Elder One.”  
Solas saw a twisted, tall darkspawn magister striding to Calpernia. The creature had harsh expression on his face, and Solas flinched as he felt a familiar brush of magic, his orb, calling him from the distance. The mark on Elgar’nan’s palm sparked, and Elgar’nan turned to look at it, then at the Elder One. It was the moment Solas knew the God of Vengeance, weakened as he was, had made the connection. He knew the Elder One had the orb.  
“This place is not defensible.” Elgar’nan said firmly. “Cullen, gather what templars we have. Send them to the trebuchets. Aim them to mountains, and we might get some of the invading force buried into snow. The rest of the Inquisition soldiers should gather everyone inside the Chantry. Cassandra, Cole and... Vivienne come with me.”, he decided. “We will buy you some time.”  
Solas gritted his teeth. Of course he would not let him join in the battle, taking a useless Circle mage instead.  
“I don’t think taking Vivienne is wise.” he pulled Elgar’nan aside as Cullen started to yell the orders at soldiers.  
“If you think I’m going to let you join just so you can stab me in the back, take your orb and imprison my spirit, think again.”, Elgar’nan replied in elvish.  
“I’m not thinking about you.” Solas’ temper got better of him. “Not everything is about you! You know I’m far better fighter than Vivienne. The people of Haven will die because you don’t trust me.”  
“He only wants to help.” the Compassion said, looking at Elgar’nan.  
“His help is what made me into this!” Elgar’nan gestured at himself.  
“It’s true.” Compassion said, looking at Solas. “You hurt him. He believes you are just waiting to do it again, but he doesn’t see your regrets.”  
“This is not the time to talk about emotions! I have a battle to command.” Elgar’nan snapped. “You can come instead of Vivienne, Solas, but only if Compassion keeps eye on you.”  
Solas’ surprise must have been clear on his face, because Elgar’nan didn’t wait for an answer.  
“Don’t look like that!” Elgar’nan hissed in elvish. “You were the one going on and on about the people of Haven. There are at least a two dozen elves here. Do you think I will leave them to die?”  
Solas was going to point out that they weren’t their People, they weren’t even real, but Elgar’nan was already running towards gates, and Cole darted after him. Having no choice, he followed.

For a moment, he almost thought they were going to make it. The trebuchets did their job, and with their group darting between the artillery and killing most of the attackers, the templars were able to fend off the mages. The soldiers loading the trebuchets were preparing for the second round, and Solas was starting to be worried that Elgar’nan was going to bury Haven entirely, when a screech echoed from the mountains and a trebuchet exploded for a fiery breath of a corrupted dragon.  
“We can’t face it here! We have to do… something!” Cassandra cried out.  
“Retreat to the Chantry. Now.” Elgar’nan commanded.

 

“Herald. Our position is not good.” Cullen came running as soon as they entered the Chantry. Elgar’nan pushed Minaeve, who had been badly burned by alchemical explosion to Solas’ arms and turned towards the Commander to hear his report.  
“This way.” Cole nodded to Solas. He was almost carrying the alchemist Adan, whom they had saved on their way to Chantry. Cassandra took a moment to catch her breath, and then looked at the mage, Dorian, who had interrupted them at the lake. He was talking about the Elder One.  
“From what I gathered at Redcliffe, the Elder One marched all this way to take your Herald.” Dorian said.  
Cassandra felt cold. But there had been no communication, no demands. Nothing at all, except the attack after an attack. And during the battle, the bulk of the Venatori had come at their little group, ignoring the templars and soldiers working on the trebuchets.  
Elgar’nan’s mouth was a thin line.  
“I don’t care what he wants. How do I stop him?”  
“If knew, I would tell you.” Dorian shrugged.  
“We still have one trebuchet remaining.” Cassandra said. “But to hit the enemy, we would bury Haven.”  
“This isn’t survivable now. Only choice left is how spitefully we end this.” Cullen pointed out.  
Dorian and Cullen had started to argue about whether they wanted to die or not, and Cassandra was quietly whispering the words of the Chant under her breath. She did not want to die, but if today was the day she would be called to Maker’s side, she knew it would be for a good cause. She had no regrets.  
The Chancellor Roderick who sat forgotten on the corner, said something, gesturing Elgar’nan to come closer.  
“There is a path.”, the man said, pain muddling his words. “I made a summer pilgrimage. It was overgrown, and easy to miss. All those with me that day died on the Conclave. But we can escape that way.”  
Elgar’nan looked at the man, his expression serious.  
“Can you lead the people away from Haven? Through the Chantry back door?”  
“I have to.” Roderick said. “It’s my task. It is why Andraste saved me. I understand it now.”  
“Yes.” Elgar’nan nodded. He rose up and looked at the others.  
“Dorian, you are capable of healing. You must assist Chancellor so he can guide you and the rest of the survivors towards the path. Go.” he nodded towards the Chancellor.  
“But what keeps them from attacking us when we leave?” Cassandra asked.  
“I will. If the Elder One is here for me, I’ll make him fight for it.”, Elgar’nan said firmly.  
“And when the mountain falls? What about you?” Cullen asked.  
Elgar’nan did not answer. He merely drew his swords from their sheaths, and started walking towards the Chantry doors. Cassandra was sure he was not going to say anything, but then he stopped for a moment, looking at straight at her.  
“I will leave the Inquisition to your capable hands, Cassandra.” he said. And with the slight nod of his head towards the soldiers to lift the bar, Elgar’nan pushed open the Chantry doors and marched alone into darkness, where certain death waited.


	7. A clash of gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan meets Corypheus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven battle music works well to set the mood for this chapter.  
> https://youtu.be/UdCLZaxmD2M
> 
> The blood-magicky references in the beginning of the chapter come from the reaver class.

It felt like relief not having to pretend. There were so many things Elgar’nan had to hide from the ever-present eyes among the Inquisition. A Dalish hunter would not recognize the spell a Venatori mage was preparing to kill him with, and wait for the perfect moment to throw a knife through her throat so the unleashed spell killed four of her comrades in explosion of mana. A Dalish hunter could not rip into his enemy to heal himself. A Dalish hunter could not laugh with glee as he tore through the lines of his enemies, because it was a savage thing to do.

Nobody knew better than Elgar’nan how diminished he was, how much exactly it had cost him to escape Dread Wolf’s prison, but he was still more than the quicklings of this age. And if he died today, it hardly mattered. In many ways, it would make things easier. His agents among the Dalish, carefully chosen and instructed during the nights spent in his tent or cabin while the members of Inquisition thought he was having sex, were already searching for a new host body for him. A male mage, the most powerful one who could be found among the Dalish, and then the God of Vengeance would return to his People for real. The Dalish knew better than trust the Dread Wolf, and Elgar’nan had not kept Wolf’s identity secret from them, wanting them to be wary if he tried to approach the Dalish again. He would rally the elves, and bring down the accursed Veil, undoing Dread Wolf’s treachery. He would save his children, his People and bring back his world.

The proximity of Dread Wolf’s orb little ways towards south, a sweet but poisonous song of power, made the mark on his hand pulse. The power pushed against his skin, ripping at the safeguards Fen’Harel had put on the place when he thought he was treating a Dalish hunter fallen from the Fade. Even if the power was not his, it still made his blood sing a verse of war and victory. Oh, to have his own orb back, his own magic back. And his sentinels at his side, and Mythal, proud and fierce. Lost in the memory, Elgar’nan parried a blow coming from right and made a running jump, bringing down a behemoth. His knee slammed into creature, making a cracking noise, but he hardly heard it as he thrusted both his swords through twisted creature’s throat. Behemoth came crashing down, and he rose up again, pulling the weapons free. A blow coming from left surprised him, and the spell actually landed on him before he understood to call upon Dread Wolf’s mark to shield himself. A part of bindings Fen’Harel had cast on hand broke, and Elgar’nan felt the green flames of the mark licking his skin. His mind was filled with battle haze, and he could not understand how anyone could have gotten to him from left. Without thinking, Elgar’nan glanced at his left, expecting to see Mythal there on her usual spot, but it was empty. A scream of rage and loss tore from his throat, and he blindly went for the first enemy he saw.

\--

When Cassandra heard the scream, she stopped on her tracks.  
“Should we turn back, Seeker?” one of the Inquisition soldiers asked.  
“No.”, she replied with heavy heart. “The Herald would not... He would not want us to make his—I mean her sacrifice meaningless. We must go on.”  
“As you command.” the soldier nodded.  
“Go on with the others. I will come last. Someone must signal the Herald to launch the trebuchet.” Cassandra said, looking down to the valley. It was too far to see clearly what exactly was happening down there, but she saw the archdemon circling in the air and then landing on a clearing near the last remaining trebuchet.  
Turning her back on the progression behind her, Cassandra took a bow from her shoulder, dipping the arrowhead in a jar of tar she had brought from the Haven. As he left, the soldier heard her whispering the words of the Chant quietly under her breath. The Seeker was praying.  
“Though stung with a hundred arrows,  
Though suffering from ailments both great and small,  
His Heart was strong, and he moved on.”

\--

Elgar’nan had just readied the trebuchet, when the twisted dragon dove down, and he had to dive to avoid the incoming blast. He landed wrong, on his injured knee, and spent a moment trying to breathe through the pain. Fenedhis, he hated this weak, mortal body and its stupid limitations.  
“Enough!” a harsh voice said, and the darkspawn walked through the flames. It was the very creature Elgar’nan had been waiting for, the darkspawn who had stolen Dread Wolf’s orb. The creature sent a blast of blight magic towards him, and Elgar’nan lifted his arm to shield his eyes.  
“Really?” Elgar’nan asked, looking down on his nose at the creature. “You call yourself the Elder One, and best you can come up with is the equivalent of kicking sand at someone’s face.”  
The Elder One ignored him.  
“Pretender. You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more.”  
Elgar’nan could feel the orb’s siren song so close. He did not answer, but watched the darkspawn with predatory glee, waiting for the creature to make its move. This was not the first aspiring godling he had fought. They all were the same. So eager to prove their power that they simply could not resist bringing out their best weapons. One needed only to wait.  
“Know me. Know what you have pretended to be. Exalt the Elder One. The Will that is Corypheus. You will kneel.”  
“Those like me will never kneel to likes of you.” Elgar’nan told him, readying himself to jump. It hurt like hell to put weight on his injured leg, but he ignored the pain. It was meaningless.  
“You resist. You will always resist. It matters not.” Corypheus said, slowly lifting up a clawed hand. There it was. Fen’Harel’s orb, laying on creature’s palm. Elgar’nan felt yet another tearing sensation in his marked hand, when Corypheus opened the orb which started to glow red.  
“I’m here for the anchor. The process of removing it begins now.”

Corypheus thrusted the orb forwards and ignited the mark on rattus’ hand. Establishing a flow of power to pull the mark away, Corypheus prepared his next excellent line, but something was not right. The current of magic was flowing to wrong direction. Not from mortal to orb… But from orb towards the mortal, through the anchor. It couldn’t be.  
Losing track of what he was supposed to say next, Corypheus stared at the pitiful creature and blurted the first thing he remembered:  
“I’ve seen the throne of gods, and it was empty.”  
The elf looked up, and smiled. But the face was different, now. The slave markings of a rattus were gone, and Corypheus could feel the Fade rushing to bend to elf’s will unlike a moment ago. It was like making someone Tranquil… But in reverse.  
“It is my throne you are talking about, and it is no longer empty.” the elf said in man’s voice. “For releasing me and breaking the wall between me and my magic, I will grant you a death by my hand.”  
And then the elf attacked Corypheus.

His own magic was still a trickle of water compared to river it used to be, but it was there, and Elgar’nan laughed as a curse mark landed on Corypheus’ elbow. It was one of his better inventions from early days of the war which had made him a god. Dread Wolf’s mark was flaring uncontrollably, but as soon as he got his hands on the orb, it would be all right.  
The magister blasted him with red lyrium, which tore at his mortal form and made it bleed. But Elgar’nan ignored the pain, stubbornly pushing through it. The tainted dragon snapped at his heels, and Elgar’nan slammed his marked hand on the creature, causing a small rift. He glimpsed a fiery arrow rising on the dark sky, a signal telling him that the people of Haven were above tree line now. But they were not a priority now. He had to get the orb.  
“You don’t even know whose magic you wield, you tainted quickling.” Elgar’nan spat, taking control of the spell. He dropped his remaining sword on the ground, freeing a hand and made a fist. Corypheus howled as the curse mark crushed the bare bones of his elbow, severing the forearm holding the orb from his body. The orb fell, and Elgar’nan lunged to catch it. But his knee couldn’t hold his weight anymore, and his jump fell short. The dragon grabbed him between its huge jaws and threw him against the trebuchet.

His armor bent under the massive teeth, and hitting the trebuchet made his vision distorted. Breathing hurt, oh how it hurt, and Elgar’nan found that he couldn’t get up. His legs no longer had strength to carry him.  
“Not so arrogant now, rattus.” Corypheus hissed, lifting up the orb with his remaining hand. “I will make you die for this outrage. I will not suffer a rival.”  
“If I die here today.” Elgar’nan pulled himself in upward position, each breath accompanied by sharp pain inside his chest. “I’m taking you with me.”  
He more fell on than kicked the crank controlling the trebuchet. The chains started to whirl and a giant boulder flew across the air, only to be followed by a rumble of incoming avalanche. The tainted dragon was first to react, taking Corypheus with its talons and taking flight. And then everything turned white.


	8. Freezing in Frostbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan takes his failure to save his children hard.  
> Cassandra gets embarrassed by Varric (again).  
> An alliance is made.

He had not spoken a single word after they found him wandering through the snowstorm. Cassandra was getting worried. Elgar’nan was not a reclusive person by nature, and she would have expected him to say something. At least to complain about the pain, or the cold, or the wind. On the other hand, it was entirely possible he was too dazed to say anything. They had given him enough potions to drug a bronto after Vivienne realized the Herald had walked all way from Haven with a broken knee.

“Are you all right?” Cassandra asked quietly when the others left, leaving the Herald to rest while the news of his miraculous survival spread in the camp.  
He didn’t answer. If his eyes hadn’t been open, Cassandra would have thought he was asleep. Or maybe, a small voice in her mind suggested, he had died but nobody had noticed it yet. Stupid thought. But he wasn’t moving, and he wasn’t answering to her, and who knew what kind of evil spells a creature like Corypheus could have cast on him. When the uncertainty grew too strong, Cassandra poked him tentatively.  
That earned a reaction. He flinched.  
“I asked if you are all right.” Cassandra said again. “The others left. We are alone now.”  
He shook his head slowly, and Cassandra saw his eyes glistening in the faint light of the lamp.  
“I failed.” Elgar’nan said so quietly she barely heard him. “I failed them all. I tried to get the orb from Corypheus, but I was too weak, and I couldn’t.”  
Cassandra felt like horrible person when she saw tears starting to fall from the corner of his eyes. He turned his face towards the wall, away from her, and just laid there. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. But it broke her heart to see him like this, after all what he had done to save them.  
“Elgar’nan.” she said, stroking his back on what she hoped was a friendly manner. His skin was still icy cold even though Josephine had found three blankets from somewhere. “You didn’t fail. You did everything you could. Nobody could have done more. Many would have done far less.”  
He tried to answer, but it came out as a broken, muffled sob which cut her heart.  
“Oh, Maker.” Cassandra muttered, feeling overwhelmed. “I’m not good at this.”  
But the Maker didn’t tell him what she was supposed to do.  
“Make room.” she said, pushing Elgar’nan closer to the edge of the bunk. Taking off her breastplate – cold metal was not something one should wear when attempting to hug already frozen person -, she slipped under the covers and hugged him. He made a strangled noise and turned around, hiding his face against her neck as he clung to her like a drowning man.  
“Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light.” Cassandra began tentatively, holding him. The Chant was the most comforting thing she knew, and she didn’t know what else to offer. The familiar words from the Canticle of Trials soothed her, and the upset she felt after the loss of Haven. “I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder.”  
Elgar’nan didn’t seem to be offended, and she felt like she was supposed to say something, so Cassandra started another verse from Canticle of Trials as she stroked his hair.  
“Maker, though I am but one, I have called in your name. And those who come to serve will know your glory. I remembered for them.” she recited gently. “They will see what can be gained. And though we are few against the wind, we are yours.”  
“What was the last one from?” Elgar’nan asked in subdued voice.  
“Canticle of Trials. Fifth verse.” Cassandra replied.  
“I like that one. I find it oddly comforting, even though it is very different than prayers in my religion. Would you mind saying the words again?”  
“I’d be pleased to help.” Cassandra said. It truly seemed that he found something he needed from the words of the Chant, because he slowly started to calm down, and his shoulders no longer shook.  
“Is the elven religion very different?” she asked from sheer curiosity.  
“It depends on a god.” Elgar’nan replied. “In my experience, most prayers fall into two camps. It’s either “Oh, Elgar’nan, please stop doing whatever you are doing” or “Elgar’nan, burn the ground under your gaze, kill all my enemies and make them pay.”  
“Doesn’t it feel odd? Because of your name.”  
“One gets used to it. And I’m not only one who happens to have a name of a god. I’m under impression that half of the Orlesian nobles who accompanied us to Therinfal were named Andraste something. Josephine said that showing piety was fashionable in Orlais.” Elgar’nan replied. He was starting to sound drowsy. And his skin was much warmer now. Cassandra decided it was justifiable to stay a moment longer.  
“I don’t think we have anything like prayers to Elgar’nan in the Chant. Maybe the Canticle of Victoria—“  
Someone was coughing at the tent door. It was Varric.  
“Seeker.”, the accursed dwarf began with a grin on his face.  
“This isn’t what it looks like, and not what you think it is!” Cassandra jumped up like she’d been struck by a lighting spell. “We were talking about the Chant!”  
“Chant?” Varric arched his eyebrows.  
“Yes! I was reciting the Chant of Light to Herald!” Cassandra said quickly as she rose from the bed – Maker, it was cold - and started fastening her breastplate.  
“So you were reciting the Chant of Light under her blankets. Without your armor.” Varric said. “Whatever floats your boat, Seeker? I just came to tell that the advisors need you.”  
Elgar’nan attempted get up, but Cassandra promptly pushed him back down.  
“Not you.” she said. “You are not needed now. You have done enough.”  
He tried to say something, but Cassandra glared at him.  
“Sleep.”, she commanded.  
Elgar’nan dropped back down on pillows with a sigh, and closed his eyes. He was fast asleep before Cassandra finished putting on her armor. Varric was very amused.  
“The Herald has a thing for bossy women. Melts like butter.” the dwarf mused.  
Even though Cassandra knew better than trust Varric, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. Would the same trick work on other things, too?

\--

Solas had long known that whatever forces controlled the fate of the world, they were fond of irony. Seeing the survivors of Haven gather around Elgar’nan was an eerie echo from Ages long past. The hymn they sang was different, as was the language, but faith and need to believe in higher powers shone from their faces all the same. By attacking Haven Corypheus had changed them, and changed the Herald. People of Haven had seen their Herald fight for them, die for them, and miraculously return to them. And Elgar’nan didn’t even have his magic. Solas shook his head slowly, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

As the last notes of the song died down, Elgar’nan lifted up his gaze, looking at Solas. He nodded towards the edge of the camp, clearly expecting Solas to follow as he left the group of his worshippers.

They walked little ways from the camp, Elgar’nan leading the way. He slowed down when they approached a veilfire torch, and with little swagger, ignited it. Solas’ eyes narrowed. Somehow, he had gotten his magic back, even though Solas was certain that this host of his was not a mage, and had never been a mage.  
“How?” Solas asked.  
“One question at time, Fen’Harel.” Elgar’nan replied. “I think it is time we spoke about the mess you have made of our People.”  
Solas wanted to flinch, but he kept his expression neutral. Elgar’nan’s eyes were dark as he turned to address Solas.  
“You locked us away, and then you created the Veil, destroying the People. You took everything from them, even themselves. There can be no forgiveness for that.” Elgar’nan said solemnly.  
“I know.” Solas’ reply was barely a whisper. Ever since he had woken up, he had been horrified of what had happened. The world was ruined, and even the descendants of the People were mere shadows moving among the other Tranquil, cut off from everything they should have been. Nothing was real. It was like living in a world full of ghosts.  
“I _will_ see you punished for what you did to the People, but time of retribution is not yet.” Elgar’nan continued. “It would be far too easy for you to allow you die now. You will clean up the mess you made first. Knowing you, I assume you have a plan to do it.”  
“I do.”, Solas said slowly. “As soon as I get my orb back, I will enter the Fade and bring down the Veil. The world would be as it were.”  
“And what about us?” Elgar’nan asked.  
“I was never going to let you out.” Solas said harshly. “You deserved everything that happened. Eternal torment is not enough punishment for murdering Mythal.”  
“As I expected.” Elgar’nan replied. “And since bringing down the Veil would likely kill you, diminished as you are, what about the People? Would you leave them to be hunted for what you are going to do? Lost and helpless when their magic returns to them?”  
“Those elvhen who survived the Veil are still hiding in places of power. They would be safe.” Solas said, not understanding what Elgar’nan was talking about.  
“I’m not talking about elvhen, I’m talking about the rest of the People!” Elgar’nan spread his arms, looking frustrated. “About the Dalish! And elves living in cities and those in Tevinter slavery.”  
“The descendants would likely die, just like other races living in this world.” Solas said. “But the People would be restored.”  
Elgar’nan pursed his lips, looking unhappy. But he said nothing, merely straightening his posture as he moved on to another topic.  
“Why did you give your orb to Corypheus?”  
“I woke up a year ago, too weak to unlock it after my slumber.” Solas admitted. The memory was still uncomfortable for him. “I had assumed the darkspawn would find a way to open it, but I expected he would die in the explosion. I had not counted on him to find a secret of effective immortality.”  
“So that was yet another example of your plans going wrong.” Elgar’nan sighed. His expression brightened and he noted with certain evil glee:   
“But your disastrous planning ability was actually useful this time. When Corypheus created the Breach, he damaged my prison enough for me to get out.”  
Solas didn’t seem to appreciate the reveal. If anything, he looked sour.  
“Even though you say you are doing this for the People, I don’t think they look too kindly to you.” Elgar’nan returned to original topic. “They know who is responsible for this ruin. And if you die in process, it hardly helps them to rebuild. Even though I don’t like you and I certainly don’t trust you, our goals are aligned in this. Bringing down the Veil is necessary to restore the People, and for that, we need your orb. The Inquisition is our best shot at getting it back. I’m offering you a truce, for as long as Veil holds.”  
Solas had thought of this possibility, naturally. He needed more power, and Elgar’nan was not without talent. But he had not expected Elgar’nan to put aside his need for revenge for long enough to think coolly. Maybe his encounter with Corypheus had shocked him. It was not pleasant feeling to understand one’s limitations, and Elgar’nan had never been good at that.  
Even though Solas fully acknowledged his responsibility for the plight of the People and the world, he still stood behind his decision to lock away his brethren. If he could have, he would have put Elgar’nan back in the cell where he belonged to, right now. But until Solas got back his orb, he didn’t have strength to imprison Elgar’nan again, and even then another, more permanent solution than the Veil had to be found. With this temporary alliance, he would have time to come up with a plan. He didn’t doubt that Elgar’nan would be equally busy planning that punishment he had mentioned. It all depended on who got his hands on the orb first.  
“Agreed.”, Solas said, offering his hand.  
“So it will be.” Elgar’nan said, shaking it. “We will fight alongside one another… For a time.”

That night both elves were equally pleased and busy forming plans to ruin their new ally, as soon as the Veil was gone.


	9. Fire at the heart of the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan leads his party to Storm Coast, but his earlier choices come to haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The soundtrack for this one, especially for Cass' dinner with Elgar'nan, is Brooklyn Duo cover "When we were young." https://youtu.be/X086S3qOOUQ  
> Oh, the feels.

“Come on, Fenny.” Elgar’nan cooed. “It will be fun. Just like old times.”  
Solas looked down upon his nose at Elgar’nan.  
“That is exactly why I don’t want to accompany you to this fool’s journey.” he informed Elgar’nan in clipped tones. “I have heard enough tales about you and Deep Roads, and I have no interest running after you while you hunt the darkspawn, screaming for blood.”  
“Why couldn’t I have Andruil pretending to be my Fade Advisor instead of you? You are a spoilsport, Fenny. You have always been, and always will be.” Elgar’nan sniffed. “Don’t expect me to bring back any presents.”  
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”, Solas said dryly.  
“Since you have no taste for art of war, you can do what you do best. Put your nose into other people’s business and pretend being their friend. I’m sending you, Blackwall, Vivienne and Iron Bull to Storm Coast.” Elgar’nan told him. “You can look into Wardens’ disappearance there. Deep Roads are dry, at least, and nobody smells like wet dog.”  
Solas looked at him, and his eyes narrowed.  
“Is this a petty revenge because I didn’t agree to come?”  
“I asked, and you said no. I _am_ the God of Vengeance, in case you forgot.” Elgar’nan said sweetly. “Enjoy the constant rain, Fenny.”

One should be true to one’s nature, and the thought of Solas in wet cold of Storm Coast made Elgar’nan feel happy inside. Fen’Harel liked his comforts, for all he pretended to be a homeless apostate. When he started torturing Fen’Harel for ruining Elvhenan, maybe he should construct a wet, cold prison, where Dread Wolf would be forced to drink tea to keep warm. The possibilities. Oh, the possibilities. He almost danced down the stairs leading to Skyhold’s main yard.

Cassandra was not out there with her dummies, like usually. The second most likely location was the second floor of the smithy, so Elgar’nan headed there. His ears caught an interesting sound of something heavy crashing against wall. It almost sounded like Cassandra was shouting at someone. Oh, this was going to be perfect day.

\--

“I have agents in here, here and here.” Elgar’nan said, placing markers on the large map spread on a table. The Fade around them was exact replica of his old war room, complete with wards which would keep the Dread Wolf from putting his snout into Elgar’nan’s business. “The Dalish clans stand on my side. They hold no love for the Wolf. We are going Exalted Plains after I finish the task in Deep Roads, and I plan to pick up few more from there. I need you to reach out for the elvhen, and find out how many of them pledge allegiance to Fen’Harel.”  
“And this shemlen Inquisition?” the leader of his sentinels, Senris, asked. Elgar’nan had woken him up half an hour ago from uthenera, and he still looked a bit disoriented.  
“It’s stuffed with spies, but not mine. The Inquisition spymaster spies on everyone, and I’m certain that at least half of the elves who have joined us are Fen’Harel’s agents. Kitchen maids, servants, messengers. He always liked to recruit from the lowly.”  
“Although it is wonderful to see you again, my lord, I’m not happy with the thought of you alone in weak mortal form and surrounded by Dread Wolf’s spies.” Senris frowned. “I will pick some of my best and send them to Fen’Harel’s fortress.”  
“No. Absolutely no, Senris. They would draw too much attention. Keeping my temple safe from Fen’Harel’s agents is top priority. I will—“  
Elgar’nan’s dream shattered in the middle of sentence and he was forcibly pulled out from the Fade.

“You fell asleep again.” Cassandra said with a frown.  
“If you keep doing that, one day you will fall from the hart.” Varric warned.  
“He “wouldn’t. The hart is wise and kind. It knows—“, Cole began.  
“Thank you, Compassion.” Elgar’nan cut in before the spirit blurted out something more dangerous than a wrong personal pronoun. “I’m fine.”  
Except he wasn’t. The mortal body was recovering from Haven disaster far too slowly to suit Elgar’nan. The knee was fine, mostly because he had fixed it himself after banishing everyone from his tent. But one would expect the persistent exhaustion caused by injury and snowstorm to go away in six weeks. If the modern People were truly this feeble, Elgar’nan couldn’t help but wonder how the elvhen race had managed to survive at all.

 

Elgar’nan had gathered his followers and taken the road towards north. Since the village of Crestwood was conveniently located on the way, Elgar’nan had decided to meet Hawke’s Warden friend there first. After that was dealt with, the party would continue to Storm Coast. Those he liked would follow him to Deep Roads, and the rest of Inner Circle would get a secondary assignment of collecting shards and searching for Wardens. Traveling was extremely cumbersome in this ruined world where one had to walk or ride to get anywhere, and Elgar’nan preferred to minimize it. The bone-deep tiredness which still lingered made him yearn for convenience of eluvian network, but Elgar’nan would have died before admitting it to Solas. Dread Wolf had stolen the control of network just before he ruined their world.

Storm Coast wasn’t important on grand scheme of things. Sending people to look for Wardens there might provide some minor clues to their disappearance, and Elgar’nan disapproved the Order on principle, but mostly this endeavour was meant to please Blackwall and annoy Solas. Also, the mission would give Madame de Fer something to do instead of sitting comfortably in Skyhold and plot behind his back. Keeping Vivienne and Solas in same group was beneficial arrangement: if the Dread Wolf did anything suspicious, the Enchanter was certain to tattletale. Elgar’nan knew her type. They were always trying to gather more power by charming those in power.

He sighed, trying to focus on conversation around him to keep himself awake, but it was so boring. As a leader, he naturally rode first. Behind him Vivienne and Dorian were insulting each other, Solas was playing chess with Iron Bull, Varric and Blackwall were speaking about some dismal tourniquet held in Free Marches while Cassandra once again tried to threaten Compassion about being a demon. A normal day at Inquisition.

The road stretched before him endlessly, and the light rain beat on his armour. The smell of wet wool was unpleasant, and even the scenery didn’t change much. His eyelids felt heavy, and his head nodded down. Elgar’nan startled awake as his jaw touched his chest, and blinked wearily. He held the reins of his hart in one hand, and tried to wiggle the fingers of his free hand to do something, anything to combat sleep, but it was simply too much effort. He stopped after few seconds and stared at the boring road with dismal little pits filled with water. But it was grey, wet, and Elgar’nan didn’t even notice when his eyes closed again and he fell asleep on the hart.

The Inquisition didn’t notice, either, until their leader fell from the saddle with a crash and Dorian’s stallion almost trampled her.

\--

“I’m fine!” Elgar’nan glared at Cassandra.  
“You are not fine!” the Seeker said firmly, glaring right back at him. “You fell from your hart!”  
“I fell asleep! Riding was boring!”  
“That’s fourth time today, and this time you actually fell from a saddle, Inquisitor.” Cassandra said bitingly. “It is not normal. You might be sick, and you are going to let a healer to check you.”  
“Sick?!” Elgar’nan huffed. He seemed almost insulted. “Why would I ever agree to be sick? I assure you, its last thing I would ever voluntarily submit to.”  
Solas cleared his throat and whispered something to Elgar’nan’s ear in their singsong language. Cassandra couldn’t make out the words, and from the looks of others, neither could they. Elgar’nan shot a dark look at Solas, muttering something which sounded like a curse under his breath when the mage withdrew.  
“Where were we? Oh, yes. I’ve never been sick, I don’t feel sick, and I’m definitely not going to be sick, _ever_ , even though it is common for elves in these days to get all kinds of horrible illnesses which ravage their weakened bodies and send them to early grave.”, Elgar’nan announced with air of finality as he retreated in a small cabin the Inquisition forces had hastily confiscated and slammed the door shut  
One by one, the members of Inner Circle turned to look expectantly at Cassandra, who made a disgusted noise when she understood what was expected from her.  
“Varric and Cole, go and get a healer, wise woman or whatever they have in the neighbourhood. An elf would be best, if you can find one anywhere near. I’ll reason with the Inquisitor.” Cassandra said with a sigh.  
“I’m far better making people leave this world than keep them in this one, but why can’t Solas check on her?” Dorian asked.  
“I don’t think the Inquisitor trusts me enough to do that.” Solas said simply and left.

It took better part of the day before Varric and Cole found a healer from a small village on King’s Road between Crestwood and Skyhold. When they came back, it was obvious that they hadn’t needed to hurry, because the Inquisitor and Cassandra were still at it. Raised voices were heard coming from the cabin, and Inquisition soldiers standing on guard were trying very hard to keep their faces neutral.  
“All right, you daughter of a dragon!” they heard the Inquisitor roaring. “If letting someone poke at me is what it takes to get you off my back, I’ll do it!”  
The door was slammed open, and Cassandra stormed out. Anger was burning on her cheeks and she looked ready to explode any moment.  
“Your patient is ready.” she informed old elven woman in in clipped tones. “Best to get this done before Inquisitor changes her mind, because if she does, I’m going to kill her.”  
“She doesn’t really mean it.”, Cole said helpfully. “What if he is dying? Who knows how long a magic like this can even last? He can’t die on me, not him too, not like Anthony and Regalyan—“  
Cassandra turned to glare at Cole, who shut his mouth promptly.  
“Sorry.”, the spirit offered meekly. “I don’t know if one can kill me with that, but I don’t want you to try.”  
Cassandra said nothing when she ushered the healer inside and then slammed the door shut again.

Elgar’nan sighed irritably as the old woman finally finished her prodding and poking.  
“You are in perfect health, my lady.” the woman said as she handed Elgar’nan’s tunic back.  
“I told you so, Cassandra. Are you happy now?” he asked from Cassandra who stood by the door, arms crossed over her chest.  
“However, you must not strain yourself. Even though everything seems to be fine, your pregnancy is still at early stages and falling again might endanger your baby.” the healer reproached him. “Even if you must close the rifts, Creators protect us, fighting demons is not a job for a pregnant woman.”  
Elgar’nan felt like someone had kicked him in a stomach. All breath was pushed out from his lungs, and he felt dizzy. Dizzy enough to sit down before he fainted.  
“What?” he croaked.  
“It can’t be.” Cassandra wore a shocked expression which would have made Elgar’nan laugh in any other situation. She strode across the floor, putting herself between the healer and Elgar’nan. “He—The Inquisitor simply can’t be pregnant.”  
“I have practiced my craft for thirty years, and seen my share of pregnant women.” the healer would not budge. “When did you last bleed, my lady?”  
Elgar’nan blinked. His mind was sluggish, and it took a moment and a nudge from Cassandra before he realized the question was meant to him.  
“At Haven and only once. It was disgusting and messy and I didn’t like it, so I simply decided not to do it again.” he informed them.  
Cassandra looked like she wanted to scream.  
“Ten weeks ago.” she told the healer.  
“Then it is too late.” the healer replied. “I know how to make a deathroot potion to terminate an unwanted pregnancy, but it would not be safe for the Inquisitor at this point. It should have been taken weeks ago.”  
“I understand.” Cassandra said in hollow voice. “Our people will provide you with money for your efforts, a place to sleep tonight and a hot meal. I expect you to keep this to yourself, for Inquisitor’s safety.”  
“Of course.” the woman nodded and left the room. Cassandra barred the door and turned to face Elgar’nan. Her expression was grim.  
“Elgar’nan, women can’t simply decide not to bleed.” she said firmly. “It is not a matter of will.”  
He blinked at her like an owl, not understanding what she had just said before the reality of her words hit him. For first time in his long life, Elgar’nan was sure he was going to faint for sheer shock.

\--

They laid on the narrow bed, holding hands and staring at the ceiling. The Inquisition was making a camp outside, but neither of them was in a state to go there at the moment. People would ask questions, and they had no answers to give.  
Elgar’nan didn’t know if it had been him or Cassandra who had reached for contact, but her hand in his was only thing keeping him anchored at the moment. Anchored. A slightly unhinged, hysterical chuckle escaped his lips.  
“I never thought this would happen to me.”, he said to Cassandra.  
“It’s understandable you didn’t.”, Cassandra replied. “I didn’t, either, even though I should have. You can be so utterly clueless about simplest things.”  
She sighed.  
“It’s not like this is a surprise, really.” Cassandra added in dry voice. “Any woman who keeps as many lovers as you did is bound to get pregnant sooner or later.”  
“They are?” Elgar’nan asked, feeling upset. “In my time, it was simply a matter of will.”  
They were silent for some time before Cassandra spoke.  
“Elgar’nan, you need to tell me the truth.”  
“I know.” Elgar’nan closed his eyes.  
“Are you a demon like Cole?”  
“No. I’m an elf. Just… A bit older than others.” he said, the words uncertain. “I saw the Elvhenan, our empire, with my own eyes. Then there was war, a rebellion. Things happened which were never supposed to happen. My wife died. Our children were taken away from me. We lost everything. And I slept for a very long time before I woke up.”  
“That is a lot to digest. And the worst thing is that I don’t think you are lying.” she said hollowly. “Did you lie about Maker to me?”  
Elgar’nan could feel the fragility of her faith, like a priceless piece of crystal. It was founding stone Cassandra had used to build herself with. Her belief in the Maker was her faith and her guide, one thing which gave her strength when she most needed it. Even though Elgar’nan knew there was no Maker, and no gods as far as he was concerned, it was not like that to Cassandra. With one word, he could shatter her, and Elgar’nan found he didn’t want to do it.  
“I was sent by a god, and I saw Divine Justinia in the Fade. I attempted to save her, but could not.” Elgar’nan said simply.  
Cassandra let out a breath she had been holding, and her fingers relaxed against his.  
“I believe you.” she said. “I don’t think you are a liar. Not like Varric. But we still need to figure out what you are going to do. And I want you to know that whatever you decide, I will support you.”

They spent the evening holed in a small cabin, speaking only of small, unimportant things. Cassandra had sent for food and barred others from entering, and Elgar’nan found himself grateful. He knew he was too vulnerable and shocked to face the Dread Wolf right now.  
She was beautiful, he thought, as they sat around a small table and ate in candlelight. Her smile widened as she laughed at some joke he had just cracked, and Elgar’nan felt strange fluttering in his heart. This shemlen woman, who had no magic and no time except a blink of an eye, was the purest spirit he had seen in a lifetime. Her heart burned brightly with fierceness, with faith and loyalty and strength brought only by her two hands. After a lifetime spent in company of others like him, Elgar’nan had suddenly found himself in foreign land filled with strangers, and their pitiful world was built on the ruins of his empire. But he couldn’t help but admire the sheer will of those who fought their way forwards against impossible odds and certain defeat, and Cassandra was first of her own people. She would never give up on her faith, or who she was, and it made her so beautiful.  
“Elgar’nan. What are you smiling at?” she asked, interrupting her explanation of latest chapter in Swords and Shields.  
“You.”, he told her honestly. “You are the most beautiful spirit I’ve seen in this Age. Your faith makes it so. Even though you doubt yourself, you never give up on who you are, and your determination makes your soul shine like undying flame. Had you been born as one of my People, our gods would have fought for the honor to have someone like you on their side. Your Maker is truly blessed for a servant like you.”  
A dark blush burned on Cassandra’s cheekbones, and she dropped her gaze at her plate.  
“Your Chant says it best.” Elgar’nan said, taking her hand gently in his. Hers was a hand of a warrior, the skin hardened by weapons and light scars, but he only appreciated it more.  
“For you are the fire at the heart of the world / And comfort is only yours to give.” he whispered, and pressed a light kiss on her knuckles.

 

The members of Inner Circle looked up from their evening meal as the door of Herald’s cabin was suddenly opened, and the Seeker ran out like a horde of demons was after her. She headed straight to barrel filled with clean water and sank her head under surface.  
“Seeker?” Varric asked. “Are you all right?”  
“Clearly not.” Solas said and stood up, putting his plate aside. “Seeker, what did the Inquisitor do to you? Did she hurt you? Did she say something?”  
Cassandra didn’t answer. She stayed under surface for a long time.  
“Is she trying to drown herself in there?” Varric asked, and Solas took a step towards Cassandra to check on her, but then the Seeker pulled herself up.  
Her face and hair were dropping water, and she drew a deep breath. Releasing her hold of the sides of the barrel, she felt her face tentatively, and looked at her reflection in the water.  
“Seeker, I asked what did the Inquisitor do to you?” Solas asked forcefully. Varric could tell the mage was upset from the way he held his staff, knuckles turning white.  
“The Inquisitor recited the Chant of Light to me.”, Cassandra said hollowly. “Transfigurations 12:6. Excuse me, but I have to retire to my tent now. Alone.”  
She staggered away, and Solas was going to go after her, but Varric’s burst of laughter stopped him.  
“Oh, this is priceless.” the dwarf laughed so hard that tears were running along his face, and even Vivienne was smiling.  
“Would someone care to enlighten me?” Solas asked.  
“As an apostate, it is understandable you are not familiar with the Chant. I, on other hand, have studied it among other civilized topics.” Vivienne said. “ _For You are the fire at the heart of the world…_ ”  
“Our Inquisitor certainly is a smooth one. Chant of Light, of all things.”, Dorian remarked ironically, but his eyes were kind.  
The members of Inner Circle looked at each other, mirroring soft, amused smiles. Except for Solas, who didn’t find anything to smile about.


	10. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan tries to adjust to his unexpected pregnancy. Solas tries, too.

The seven weeks Solas had spent in Crestwood and Storm Coast were among the most miserable in his long life. He couldn’t help it; he hated rain. Whatever affliction Elgar’nan was supposed to have, it had changed his tactics. Instead of charging into fire first, he had instituted a new system where Inner Circle party ‘represented’ Inquisition by searching for rifts, clearing the areas of enemies and solving the local problems. He had split Inner Circle in two groups. Iron Bull, Dorian and Varric were cleaning the Hidden Wastes while he, Vivienne and Blackwall had gotten the wet part of the world. After each group finished, a map with rifts marked on it was sent to Elgar’nan, who sauntered to close the rifts with Cassandra and Cole.

The system was quite efficient; Solas had to give him that. Now that Elgar’nan didn’t have to spend his time dealing with locals’ lost druffalos or fetching rotten bodies from a bottom of a lake, the process of closing rifts across Thedas had gotten much faster and Inquisition’s influence was growing in leaps and bounds. But the new order also made keeping eye on Elgar’nan much harder. Even though Inquisition was stuffed with spies, they needed to be instructed, and Solas didn’t feel comfortable setting modern elves directly on Elgar’nan’s tracks. The People working for Solas knew Elgar’nan by reputation and were wary of him. Additionally, those who were deeply unhappy with this new world Solas had created, might feel that God of Vengeance was a better option. Past glorified all memories, and it was too easy to start wondering if Elgar’nan’s rule had been preferable to living in a world suffocated by Veil.

As a result of all this, Solas’ information of Elgar’nan’s whereabouts was shaky at best. He knew from Vivienne that Josephine had managed to secure an invitation to Winter Palace as guests of Grand Duke Gaspard, and Vivienne was to attend Inquisitor’s party at the event. But it wasn’t much to go by, really, and Solas both dreaded and waited to see how exactly the God of Vengeance had spent these months.

“Chuckles! First Enchanter! And Hero.” Varric came to greet them in Skyhold’s lower yard as they arrived. “Good to see you all. How was the Storm Coast?”  
“Wet and miserable as always.” Vivienne said in clipped tones.  
“Tell me about it. We froze in Hidden Wastes and burnt in Western Approach, got back only three days ago. There was something shifty going on in eastern part of the desert, and the Inquisitor sent for Hawke’s Warden contact after he got your Crestwood report. She thinks it might be the Wardens. Who knows?” Varric shrugged.  
“How are things here in Skyhold?” Solas asked.  
“A bit different than when we left, I think.” Varric said with a smug grin. “Let’s go inside. Even a talented author like myself can’t put it in mere words. Some things are better to see with your own eyes.”

 

The hall was dim, lit by a fires set around the large room. The people were clustered near the throne, and the reason became soon apparent when Solas saw Josephine addressing the court. There was a judgement going on.  
“Mayor Gregory Dedrick of Crestwood is present for betraying his own constituents. He confesses that ten years ago, he flooded Old Crestwood to kill villagers and refugees touched by the Blight.” Josephine began, walking up the steps to dais.  
“The mayor claims that it was to spare the rest of Crestwood, but we only have his word.”  
“So we do.”, Elgar’nan replied. He looked past the poor prisoner, into the crowd, and his gaze stopped for a moment as he noticed Solas standing by the rotunda door with Varric and Vivienne.  
Elgar’nan sat on his throne. He was… wearing a dress. Solas blinked. It was rather fine dress, pure red with little glass beads sewn on the bodice and gold embroidery on hems.  
“If the mayor has anything to say in defence, I would hear it.”, Elgar’nan said.  
“There is no cure for the Blight, but I couldn’t convince anyone to leave her sick child or husband behind.” the mayor exclaimed, his chains rattling.  
“So you herded the infected into one place and flooded Old Crestwood? Were no innocents caught in the water?” Josephine demanded.  
“There are always innocents caught between, Josephine.” Elgar’nan cut in. He stood up, smoothing his dress. The glass beads sparkled as he walked slowly down the dais, skirts whispering against the floor.  
He stopped in front of the mayor and raised man’s chin with his hand.  
“I have no forgiveness for those who betray their own.” he said. “But you stayed and bore the consequences of your choice. That is something.”  
The room was deathly silent. Even though Elgar’nan was not looking at him, Solas knew Inquisitor’s words were not meant for mayor alone. This was a play, finely staged play, and he could do nothing but wait for conclusion.  
“What you are going to do to me?” the mayor asked in shaking voice. “Will you kill me?”  
“No.”, Elgar’nan said, letting go of him. “You will return to Crestwood and serve Inquisition in Caer Broenach keep. You will serve me to set world right again. Your work pays for your life. You will never be the honoured man you once were, and nobody will call you a brother, but you may find some small measure of peace from your actions.”  
Solas sucked in a breath. Why? How? Elgar’nan was not a creature of mercy. Not even a slow-bred vengeance. This was most uncharacteristic of him. Had Envy possessed him or something?  
“What in the Void has happened here?” he hissed at Varric.  
Near the hall, crowd was dispersing. Cassandra was approaching Elgar’nan, saying something. Elgar’nan nodded, smoothing his dress with his hands. And Solas, for his shock, saw an unmistakable curve on Inquisitor’s belly. Blood rushed in his ears, and he barely heard what Varric said to him as Cassandra took a tray from kitchen maid and opened door for Elgar’nan.  
“What did you say?” Solas asked from Varric, staring at God of Vengeance leaving to his quarters with Cassandra.  
“I asked isn’t it great? Seeker and Inquisitor, having a baby of their own.” Varric grinned. “Curly owns me three gold coins.”  
Solas could not say a word.

 

“It was kind from you to show mercy.” Cassandra noted as they sat on the couch in Elgar’nan’s room and ate ice cream. Elgar’nan claimed he had developed a terrible craving for it lately, and he demanded that Cassandra had to share his.  
“It was no kindness. Merely an unfortunate necessity.” Elgar’nan replied. His hands rose unthinkingly to his stomach.  
“Some actions are unacceptable, but some people believe it is possible to build new from the ashes of the old. Naturally, I’ve never been one of those people.” he announced. In quieter voice he added: “But the world has changed and maybe I must change with it.”  
Eager to redirect conversation to easier topics than her friend’s long lifespan, Cassandra spied something new in the room.  
“You have redecorated again? What are these? Josephine said they were religious symbols of sorts.” Cassandra gestured towards the loft. There were two bird statues looking over the room.  
“They are. Owl for Falon’Din, Friend of the Dead, and raven for Dirthamen, Keeper of Secrets. I’d like to add a hawk for Andruil, Goddess of Hunt when I find one which reminds me of her. It would not do for the new one to be ignorant of her own roots.” Elgar’nan answered.  
“How many children you had?” Cassandra asked.  
“My wife gave me four. Two boys, then two girls. The boys were easy, but our oldest daughter was a handful. She was my favourite, always hanging to my legs and begging me to take her with me. Finally I made her a bow and taught her how to shoot. She took up hunting on her own and managed to keep it secret from her mother for almost two years. That girl was an incarnation of blood and force and her sister was full of fire.” Elgar’nan smiled wistfully. Returning to present moment, he took another spoonful of ice cream and added dryly:  
“I hope that this trouble is worth it, in the end. After my wife died, I didn’t think I’d have more. And I certainly didn’t expect I would be the one having them.”  
“It is how things usually happen.” Cassandra said with a smile.  
“Yes, but it’s much easier if you are male.” Elgar’nan disagreed. “You can seize the day, and someone else gets to be sick. That is why your Maker decided to be a man.”  
She tapped him lightly with her spoon.  
“You should be more careful with your religious opinions. You are the Herald of Andraste. If you say things, people might start believing you.”  
“I don’t want to have a part in religion which celebrates the murder of Maker’s Bride. It sets an awful example. No wonder why he doesn’t answer to prayers.” Elgar’nan said seriously.  
“And your own religion is superior?”  
“We don’t celebrate tragedies.” he said solemnly. “Or a murder.”

 

\--

 

Solas had been surprised when he had been invited to accompany Elgar’nan to a journey towards west, through Exalted Plains to Western Approach. He had accepted the offer, thinking that it might shed a light to what God of Vengeance was up to. So far, the experience had indeed been enlightening, albeit not in the way Solas had thought.  
“I can’t help but to feel sorry for the Inquisitor.” Varric noted as they ate their morning porridge and listened the sounds of Inquisitor retching behind her tent. From his seat, Solas could see Cassandra’s armoured shoulder. The Seeker was holding Elgar’nan’s hair off his face as he vomited loudly.  
“I have never seen anyone get sick from a smell of porridge.” the dwarf continued, shaking his head. “I would think it was neutral. Pregnant women usually complain about greasy meat or other strong smells. Not porridge.”  
“It’s a pity.” Solas said, and his eyes glinted.

“Go and kill the one who cooked that disgusting crap and let the smell float towards to my tent.” Elgar’nan groaned, wiping sweat off his face. “Kill him with fire. It was probably Solas.”  
“I’m sure that he had nothing to do with direction of wind.” Cassandra said.  
“Cassandra, I’m forced put up with countless utterly demeaning things at the moment. My boobs hurt like dragon’s fire, I’ve given up the hope of ever finding trousers which don’t hurt, and the thought of eating anything is revolting. If you won’t kill Solas for me, at least don’t lie for him. Oh, fenedhis lasa.” Elgar’nan bent over again.  
Cassandra shook her head.  
“We should turn back.” she said as she gathered Elgar’nan’s hair off his face. There was no sharpness in her eyes, merely worry. “You are not well. I don’t think you’ve managed to keep anything down since we left Skyhold.”  
“I’ll be all right. Just let me lay down for an hour and keep that infernal smell away from Me.”, he said, looking miserable as he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.  
“But you have to eat something.” Cassandra pressed. “Is there anything you think you could keep down?”  
He looked almost ashamed.  
“There is one thing.” Elgar’nan said tentatively.  
“What is it?”  
“I really, really crave iced halla milk.” he admitted. “It’s cold, and sweet, and fresh. Not smelly.”  
“All right.” Cassandra made her decision. Finding a halla which could be milked was not going to be easy task in war-torn area, but this could not go on. “Anything else?”  
“Strawberries. Any kind of berries would do.”  
“I will get you iced halla milk with berries. Now go to my tent and try to sleep. You look terrible.”  
“But you don’t like other people sleeping in your tent.” Elgar’nan pointed out.  
“It’s true, but yours is downwind.”  
“I told you Solas did it on purpose.” Elgar’nan said.

“Uh oh.” Varric said when he saw Cassandra striding towards them with determined look on her face. “I have a bad feeling about this.”  
“I told the Inquisitor to rest today. We have a task to complete on Exalted Plains.”, Cassandra addressed Solas and Varric. “Grab your gear. We’ll leave immediately.”  
“What is it, Seeker? Another one of those rogue templars you hunt with Miracle?”  
“Who is Miracle?” Solas frowned.  
“Our gracious saviour, of course.” Varric grinned. “A hole in the sky is beyond heroes. We needed a miracle. Have you seen the way Seeker looks at her? Definitely a miracle.”  
“You are imagining things again, Varric.” Cassandra replied sternly. “There is nothing inappropriate between me and the Inquisitor. We are just friends.”  
“Yeah. Friends who recite the Chant together.” Varric said dryly.  
Solas did not know why Cassandra looked like she was going to kill the dwarf, and to be honest, he didn’t want to.

When the nature of their mission became apparent, Solas understood something had to be done. He watched the Seeker chase after a herd of halla with grim determination. She had sent Varric to gather berries from the woods, ignoring the dwarf’s complaints about demons by pointing out that Varric with his short legs was hopeless on uneven terrain.  
For a shadow, the Seeker was strangely enchanting, Solas decided as he made half-hearted attempt to run after the herd. Her face was rosy from wind and extortion, and her features were proud, almost regal, even when she attempted to stare down a hostile halla stag. The animal bellowed, scrabbling with its cloves. But Cassandra gave it no quarter.  
“Don’t be stupid.” she said sternly. “I’ve been told that you understand speech. I only need some milk. Then you may leave with your doe.”  
Solas sighed.  
“They don’t understand the language.” he said, giving in. Softly, he whispered some words in ruined, accented elvish like the Dalish did, and the ears of halla perked up.  
“Oh. I should have known.” Cassandra said stiffly. But she wasted no time walking closer to a doe when the herd let her in. Solas was willing to bet this was first time in Seeker’s life when she had attempted to milk a halla, but it was clear she was not going to give up. So in the end, he cast a discreet spell to help her out.

“Why you do this?” he was unable to hold the words back when they finally returned to wait for Varric. Cassandra was carefully carrying a small bucket filled with milk, the courtesy of Solas’ magic and the herd. “The Inquisitor is not who you think.” he continued.  
“I know who he is.”, Cassandra’s reply was unexpected. “Elgar’nan is conceited, prideful and whines about every little thing. I think he actually enjoys being a very difficult person.”  
Solas blinked.  
“Why this?” Solas had to ask. “Why all this trouble?”  
“Because he is Elgar’nan.” a small smile made Cassandra’s eyes soft. “He is courageous, and truthful. His heart is strong, and well worth of pride.”  
“Seeker, don’t. You don’t know what you are dealing with.” Solas’ words were almost a plea. “You don’t know what kind of man he truly is. I know, and I assure you as a friend: you deserve better.”  
Solas knew love when he saw it, and he felt desperation and anger while watching the barely hidden emotion behind the Seeker’s facade. Cassandra scowled.  
“I know more of him than anyone knows of you, _Solas_.” unexpected bite in her voice made Solas flinch. How much had God of Vengeance told her? When Cassandra turned away and began to stride towards the camp, leaving him behind, Solas felt almost mournful. She deserved better. He had to do something he absolutely abhorred of doing. He had to talk to Elgar’nan.

 

Solas’ chance finally came in the evening, when the God of Vengeance sat by fire, eyes half-closed as he sipped strawberry milkshake like it was the most exquisite wine ever grown in Elvhenan. Cassandra and Varric had already retreated to their tents, one to read embarrassing romances and other to write them.  
“Lovely.”, Elgar’nan sighed softly as he put down the empty bottle. “If you can resist playing with the wind, Fenny, we can continue the journey tomorrow. There is a Venatori temple in the Western Approach I want to check out.”  
“What are you doing?” Solas looked him straight in the eye. His old adversary certainly looked much different now, hiding behind small and sharp features of a Dalish woman. And the bump. He had always known Elgar’nan was the unstable one, remembering the period when he had claimed that holding a court naked was a perfect way to establish authority, but this…  
“Reproducing.”, Elgar’nan replied.  
“But... It will die.” Solas forced himself to say the truth out loud. “It will be a weak and misshapen creature, ravaged by illness and age. What if it doesn’t have magic? Most of the Dalish are Tranquil.”  
Elgar’nan’s face twisted, and he closed his eyes.  
“We are not friends, but we are allied in this. As one of the People, I feel I must warn you. You are getting too attached to this world. These people.” Solas spoke fast. “When the Veil is brought down, they all will perish. The Inquisition. Varric. Cassandra. The child, if it isn’t killed by the Anchor first. You know as well as I do that anyone except I cannot wield Anchor for long, and your vessel is mortal. Elgar’nan, there is no way this can end happily.”  
Elgar’nan opened his eyes, drawing a deep breath and looking at Solas.

“I know.” he finally said. “But isn’t there—There are things here in this world which are real, Solas. They feel so real, sometimes. There are moments when I can almost--.”  
“No.”, Solas’ voice was unyielding yet sad. “Don’t give yourself false hopes, brother. Nothing here is real, and it won’t become real, no matter how badly you wanted it to be so. This all is just a bad dream. A dream gone wrong.”  
Sensing Elgar’nan’s uncertainty, he continued more forcefully:  
“It would be kinder in the long run to give up now. Cassandra is an admirable person; what will she say when she learns the truth? She will curse your name the day we bring down the Veil, and you know it. She is not real. She is no Mythal, and what your vessel carries is not your child. It is just a shadow.”  
“A shadow, maybe, but not without worth.” Elgar’nan said quietly. “Maybe there is a way for our world to exist within this new one. There might be, if we searched for it. I’m not naïve enough to believe in true balance or alliance between the People and the shemlen, but can we truly doom them all just like that?”  
His hands rested on his stomach, fingers curving around the small bump. The gesture looked almost loving, Solas thought and felt ill.

They spoke no more of it, but when Solas watched Elgar’nan leaving the fire, he felt a small pang of regret as he decided what had to be done. But he knew he was right. There were losses People could not afford, and as things were, the God of Vengeance was one of them.

 


	11. The Winter Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan names his baby and Cassandra learns to love Winter Palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the halfway point of the story arc. I think this is going to be star-crossed romance. *sigh* But with this couple, I knew it the moment I came up with the title for this story.
> 
> Soundtrack for this chapter: Eclipse/ I follow rivers  
> https://youtu.be/cN1f5dICYtQ  
> and Brooklyn Duo: When we were young  
> https://youtu.be/X086S3qOOUQ

“So, are you going to have a boy or a girl?” Varric asked curiously as the Inner Circle gathered in Herald’s Rest.   
“This one is a daughter.” Elgar’nan replied serenely.   
“How do you know?” Varric asked.  
“I have seen her in the Fade.” Elgar’nan informed them.  
“Not you too, Boss.” Iron Bull rolled his eyes. “I thought we got enough of that crap from Solas.”  
“It’s a running joke here, isn’t it? But this baby is a girl. Enansvevaral Filomena.", Elgar'nan said, stretching himself comfortably on high-backed chair.   
“Enansesvavar- Ugh. That’s a real mouthful, Boss.” Iron Bull shook his head. “With a name like that, other kids will pick on her.”  
Elgar’nan snorted.   
“As if anyone would dare.”  
“His remaining blessing, the last grace. Little light. He would string their intestines to trees of Emerald Graves if they ever tried.” Cole said seriously.  
Solas looked grim.   
“Enansvevaral is well suited, but Filomena?” he asked.   
“A personal preference.” Elgar’nan said smoothly. “I like the name.”  
“It is not a name of the People.” Solas remarked.  
“No, it is not.” Elgar’nan said. “Actually, it’s Cassandra’s fifth name. I asked from Leliana. Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast. But you must not tell her. I’m saving the surprise.”  
Varric’s grin was wide enough to almost crack his face, and Iron Bull hit Elgar’nan on the shoulders companionably, laughing, but Solas was silent. So God of Vengeance, the proud leader of Evanuris, wanted to name his shadow child after a human.

Solas’ heart was heavy as he sat in the corner, apart from others. He watched how Elgar’nan threw his head back in roaring laughter when Varric cracked a joke. His brother’s spirit inside the borrowed vessel shone brighter than the lamps illuminating the room. Curled around it, there was the faintest glimmer of light. It was like seeing a firefly against a bonfire, but there it was. Enansveveral. Solas could tell by the way his brother’s magic lovingly wrapped the thing round, cradling the still unformed wisp of a spirit not yet born.   
“I regret this more deeply than you will ever know, brother.” Solas whispered, feeling mournful. “But the People need us. You cannot betray them now. We will save them, even if I have to play the villain to make it happen.”

He stood up and left abruptly, knowing that if he stayed a moment longer, his determination might fail him.  
Solas heard someone calling after him, but he quickened his steps, and did not stop before he had walked the distance between rowdy inn and the quiet garden, where one of his agents waited him.  
“You called me, Fen’Harel.” Elan Vem’al spoke quietly in elvish.  
“I have told you not to call me that.” Solas snapped.   
He caught a stricken look on woman’s face, and mentally berated himself. What was the use of freeing the world from the tyranny of Evanuris, if he proved to be no better than them?  
“I’m sorry.” he said. “The situation is… I find no joy in this.”  
Elan Vem’al waited calmly. She was one of the People whom he had freed Ages ago, in another world, and was no stranger to Fen’Harel’s flashes of temper or his regrets. Solas wiped his forehead with his sleeve and said, the words heavy on his tongue.   
“I need you to prepare a poison. Make it so that the origins can never be traced to us. It must be blamed on the shemlen. Any of the contenders for the Orlesian throne will do, or the Venatori. Or Qunari, if necessary.”  
“What kind of poison?” Elan Vem’al asked, undisturbed.  
“Something invented on this Age. Based on witherstalk”, Solas said.   
“I understand.” the woman said, nodding simply. “I will not fail you.”

Elan Vem’al left, and Solas stayed behind in the garden. He sank on the bench, hiding his face in his hands. Even though this world was not real, he was not blind to the suffering of others. He would take no joy in what was to come.

 

\--

Cassandra hated the Winter Palace. The high collar of her uniform was uncomfortable, and she pulled it with her fingers, twisting the fabric until Leliana hit Cassandra’s fingers with Josephine’s Antivan fan. Discreetly, of course.  
“Stop being so twitchy.” the spymaster scolded her.   
“I don’t understand why I had to come here. I hate parties. I hate nobility. I hate dancing, and I hate politics.” Cassandra said unhappily.   
Leliana opened her mouth to answer, but smiled instead. It was a wicked, knowing smile which made Cassandra deeply suspicious and uncomfortable, but she didn’t have time to voice her suspicions before Elgar’nan swooshed to them in a flurry of skirts.   
“Ah, finally! I thought that Gaspard would never end his clumsy flirting. He even tried to get me to walk with him to introduce myself to the Empress.”  
“But it would have been a wonderful opportunity to impress the court!” Josephine’s eyes were wide as plates. “Oh, I begged you to listen! The court is as dangerous as—“  
“Pfft.”, Elgar’nan huffed, gesturing with his hand. “This court is about as dangerous as a pack of old, toothless dogs. The decorations here are just barbaric. How a nation which still insists on rectangular doors can call themselves fashionable? Or the modern information gathering? People just spill out their secrets out loud and all I need to do is to stand on a spot and listen? No need for mind breach or aura detection or anything actually interesting? And the plotting. The Orlesians have nothing on my younger son when it comes to masking one’s true face or intentions. I’m _terribly_ disappointed at this ball, and it hasn’t even started yet.”  
Cassandra found herself smiling like fool. Her eyes met his, and a curious warmth spread inside her. Even a pretentious Orlesian ball wasn’t so bad, not when he was here with her. Not that Cassandra would ever have admitted it to anyone.   


Even though Cassandra had wondered why the advisors had insisted on taking Solas with them to Winter Palace, she understood it when Josephine quickly procured the elven apostate from somewhere to persuade Elgar’nan to take Gaspard’s offer before the archduke became offended for having wait too long at the gates.  
“It is usually my job to talk to the Inquisitor.” Cassandra said, feeling slighted.  
“Yes, but you hate the court so much that you would only make it worse.” Leliana replied. “We cannot afford our leader, a tattooed Dalish savage, to look down on Orlesian nobility.”  
Cassandra coughed. Sometimes she wondered if any of them actually listened what Elgar’nan said. He didn’t even bother to lie about his origins, preferring to pronounce his dislike on modern architecture and the standards of Orlesian court with a conviction of someone who had seen much grander things. Either the whole Inquisition was under mind control, or they stubbornly refused to admit that something like ancient elven man living in a body of Dalish woman could exist. Cassandra was not sure what kind of position Elgar’nan had held in the old empire, but she doubted that he had been a kitchen servant. Likely a priest. He was very knowledgeable on religious matters, and he respected her faith.

Elgar’nan was glaring at Solas and then he turned away in a whirl of skirts – for a man, Cassandra thought, he truly had perfected the art of using flowing excess of fabric to dramatic advantage – storming up the stairs and towards the gates. Looking relieved, Josephine gathered everyone and told them to follow.   
“What did you say to him?” Cassandra asked curiously as Solas joined to walk by her side.  
“I said that he couldn’t charm a court full of humans even if he tried.” the apostate mage said, a faint smile on his face.   
“That would work.” Cassandra admitted. “Arguing or challenging him into something usually does the trick.”  
“Ah, but I have seen many to try that with him. Most of them met a grievous end.” Solas replied. His expression was strangely calculating as he looked at Cassandra. “I wonder if he would truly allow you to guide him, or if he lets you just think so. As long as I remember, there has been only one person who could control his moods.”  
“They are tantrums. Nothing I can’t handle.” Cassandra replied.  
“The rages you have seen so far are like comparing a heated coal to a volcano.” Solas said coolly. “If I were you, I would think of it again before taking things further. You do not understand what you are playing with, and I respect you. I would hate to see you hurt or worse.”  
Cassandra’s eyes narrowed.   
“Are you threatening me, Solas?”  
“No. I’m simply warning you not to trust a liar.” the apostate mage said as they reached the ballroom. Elgar’nan was already walking across the floor with Gaspard, and the herald was starting to list Cassandra’s names. When Josephine poked her, Cassandra began to walk reluctantly, her mind unpleasantly occupied by Solas’ warning.   
“…Portia Calogera Filomena...”  
“Get on with it!” she snapped at the Orlesian fool. It made her feel much better. Maker, she hoped this evening would be over quickly.

 

 

Thank the Maker for Orlesian wine. It was two hours and four glasses later when Cassandra saw Elgar’nan again. He emerged from a crowd of nobles, reaching for her hand like it was a lifeline.   
“Oh, Lady Inquisitor, you simply must talk with us!” one of the three similarly dressed women exclaimed. “Your tongue is so very clever! The quip about Grand Duke – the Empress finds it charming!”  
“If tonight’s negotiations go well, the Empress will be most delighted to invite you to a private dinner in her quarters.” the second woman chorused.   
“We shall see how the fortune falls on each of us tonight. Even though I’m utterly devastated to part from her Imperial Majesty’s company, I must honor a previous agreement.” Elgar’nan said, not letting go of Cassandra’s hand. “Seeker Pentaghast has begged a dance from me, and I’m not one to disappoint a royal lady.”  
“A dance?” Cassandra squeaked.  
Elgar’nan quickly stomped on her toes, the action hidden by his wide skirts.   
“Yes, dearest. Or have you already forgotten?” he asked sweetly. “Sometimes I think my lady Cassandra would forget her own name if it wasn’t stitched on her smallclothes.”  
The ladies chuckled brightly, and Cassandra gave Elgar’nan a sideways glance.   
“You haven’t even seen my smallclothes.” she informed him icily.   
“A situation which must be remedied.” he replied with a spark in his eyes. “Preferably before Enansvevaral Filomena is born. Babies are too intrusive.”  
Cassandra felt a hot blush rising on her face, even though Empress’ handmaidens were staring at her.   
“You are going to name the baby after me?” she asked, feeling faint.   
“I cannot think of better example of a woman she should strive to become. But we can discuss that while we dance.” Elgar’nan said, bowing to her.

“I can’t believe you named the baby after me.”, she shook her head.   
“Who else, Cassandra? If you have not listened when I told you how much I respect you, I must start singing your praises louder.” Elgar’nan replied, guiding her easily through the motions of Orlesian waltz. “Besides, Enansvevaral is as much yours as mine. If you want her. The war against Corypheus won’t last forever, and I have been thinking what to do after that.”  
He looked Cassandra in the eye as he spoke, his words honest and true.   
“I miss my world, but it is gone. I don’t know if it can ever return, or if the price of bringing it back could be worth it. But this world, even though it is vastly different, is not without value. I have found new people I hold close to my heart, even though I never believed it possible after I lost my family.”  
“I don’t know what to say.” Cassandra said in touched voice. “But I respect your courage. It must have been difficult.”  
“It would have been far more difficult without you.” he raised his hand to cup her face. “You have stood by me every step on the way. A man could not hope for a better friend or a companion.”  
Her face was burning under his touch but her stomach was full of butterflies, and there was a terrible need to say it. And because she had already made a fool of herself, and his words were not what she wanted to hear, she just blurted it out before she could regret it.  
“I don’t want to be your friend. Or your companion.”  
Elgar’nan stopped suddenly in the middle of motion. Cassandra knew all the Orlesians were staring at them, because one didn’t just stop in the middle of the floor.   
“You don’t?” he asked.   
“I love you.” Cassandra said, looking him in the eye. “I love you, and I don’t want to be just your friend or your companion. I always wanted a man who could sweep me off my feet, an ideal romance, and somehow, despite all this”, her gesture encompassed everything from Elgar’nan’s female body to crowd of gawking Orlesian nobles “I cannot imagine wanting anyone else since we met. You are brave and righteous and strong.”  
Her face softened in a smile.   
“I think”, she said in softer voice, and “that I have always seen you as what you are, not what you look like, and Maker must have seen it as well. Because you are truly the Herald of Andraste, a blessed champion descended from heavens to save us all.”  
“You made my heart beat again when I thought it long dead.” his voice was solemn and honest. “I love you, Cassandra, and I would be honoured to stay by your side. I would raise my daughter with you, and make her ours, and love and hold you for all the years you have left.”  
Cassandra was fairly certain she was going to cry.   
“Is this a proposal?” she asked in shaking voice.  
“Just steal the moment and kiss her already!” the Dowager who was known for her several late husbands yelled from upper balcony.   
Cassandra didn’t know if it was her or Elgar’nan who moved first, but they met in the middle. Her heart fluttered as he pulled her closer, and the Orlesian orchestra, sensitive to approaching moment, began playing again most enthusiastically. For the rest of her life, Cassandra would remember his lips on hers, and the giddy feeling of butterflies in her stomach as they kissed and the Orlesian nobility danced around them.   



	12. Vir Banal'ras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan's best intentions are not rewarded. Another path is taken.

“Whom you are going to choose?” Solas asked in low voice as he stood by Elgar’nan in great ballroom of Winter Palace. They had just fought off the Duchesse Florianne’s troops and gathered the last pieces of evidence against conspirators.   
“Gaspard would be good for stability of Orlais.” Elgar’nan replied in elvish. “Celene has done atrocious job so far. Patronage of arts and civic liberties isn’t much good without force to back her reforms. Mythal realized that much earlier.”  
“I would have thought you’d pick Gaspard. Cassandra seems to favour him.” Solas remarked.  
“She does.” Elgar’nan replied. “But I did not rise to my position by giving advantage to enemy.”  
He watched the Orlesian nobles with easy expression in his eyes.   
“I think I’ll make Celene reconcile with Briala. It will please Cassandra to see them happy, even for a time. And I have no wish to spoil the evening.”  
“That’s.. Unexpected. Are you sure you can pull it off?” Solas asked, arching his eyebrows.  
“I’m the Belle of the Ball, am I not?” Elgar’nan’s lips curved into a smile. “But now is time to call out the Duchess.”

Solas watched Elgar’nan swoop down like a malevolent bird in his finery.   
“We own the court one more show, Your Grace.”, the God of Vengeance said, and the Orlesian court turned to look at the Inquisitor facing the Duchess.   
“Inquisitor.”, Florianne replied carefully.   
“The eyes of every noble in the Empire are upon us, Your Grace. Remember to smile.” Elgar’nan advised as he started to climb up stairs towards Florianne. “This is your party. You wouldn’t want them to think you had lost control.”  
“Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?” Florianne retreated, her practiced words coming out uncertainly.  
“I’m glad we had this opportunity, even though you did not want it. When your archers failed to kill me in the garden, I feared you wouldn’t save me this last dance.” Elgar’nan’s smile was mocking.   
“You think yourself a courtier. But today you have proved that you couldn’t last for a single day among your betters. Framing your beloved brother for a murder of a council emissary never ends well.” Elgar’nan sighed, giving the court a little shook of his head.  
“ Then you attempted to assassinate your Empress and failed it, too. It was an ambitious plan, I give you that. Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds… All your enemies under one roof.”  
“This has been very entertaining, but do you think anyone believes your wild stories?” Florianne asked. Solas could see the fear in quickened heartbeat on her neck. Elgar’nan, even though her vessel was shorter than the Duchess, somehow managed to look down on her with a pitying expression of a master watching a failed apprentice.  
The Empress called for guards, and Florianne made the last attempt to appeal to her brother.   
“Gaspard! You cannot believe this! You know I would never... Gaspard!” Florianne’s voice became higher as the Grand Duke turned his back at her, climbing up the stairs at the same time a pair of guards descended towards Florianne.  
The Grand Duchess turned to look at Elgar’nan, who had found Cassandra from the crowd. The God of Vengeance blew a kiss at his lover, and the court reacted with admiration, whistles and giggles and applauding. Florianne’s face twisted in ugly manner, and she drew a dagger from her dress. The nobles cried out, but Elgar’nan didn’t need their warning. He turned before the dagger hit its target, blocking Florianne’s strike with his left arm and delivering a hard blow to her throat. In a flurry of a movement, Elgar’nan slipped his blocking arm below Florianne’s, locked his hands together and twisted. A shrill scream cut the air, accompanied with a popping noise. The blade fell on the floor, and the Duchess, turned deathly white, collapsed next to it as Elgar’nan let go of her.  
Elgar’nan bent to pick the weapon from the floor, wrapping it inside a handkerchief. His face was pale and angry as he looked at the Empress standing on the floor above.   
“A word. Now.” he snapped, and it was an order.

Cassandra stood and waited with the others. Finally, the three contestants for the throne emerged from the balcony.  
“Lords and ladies of the court, this is the night for celebration!” Celene began, but there was something wrong with her. Her voice sounded fragile, somehow. “I’m pleased to announce that an understanding has been born between us and our honoured cousin, Grand Duke Gaspard. We shall join our lives in a holy marriage, under the blessing of Herald of Andraste herself, as soon as the new Divine has been chosen.”  
All eyes turned to Briala, who stood behind Celene. Her face was like a stone, giving away nothing.   
“We shall build a world in which all men and women live in harmony! Let the cornerstone of change to be laid. We shall name Briala as the Marquise of the Dales, and she shall serve the Inquisition until the danger which threatens our nation has been vanquished.” Celene continued.  
Elgar’nan stood next to them at the balcony, and his eyes were burning with cold emotion Cassandra couldn’t identify. Rage? Desperation? She knew something was wrong. Very wrong.   
“The Empire will stand by Inquisition in days to come. Together, we shall fight the enemy which threatens our Empire and our world, joined under divine guidance of the Maker and his chosen bride...” Gaspard began.  
When Gaspard shifted slightly, opening his arms in grandiose gesture, Cassandra saw a thin line of blood running from Elgar’nan’s closed fist along the red silk of his skirts. She looked up, meeting Elgar’nan’s eyes across the crowd, and he gave her the smallest nod.   
Cassandra turned to Vivienne who stood next to her and whispered in Enchanter’s ear:   
“We need to get the Inquisitor out of here. Now.”

 

“She tries to hold on, but her hold is slipping. The darkness is coming, and she is frightened.” Cole said sadly. The spirit boy was kneeling on the floor by a couch in forsaken room in royal apartments, holding Elgar’nan’s hand.  
“Fen’Harel!” Elgar’nan called in elvish. His face was deathly pale, and his eyes were panicked despite the fever. “Solas, please. _Please help me._ ”  
“I’m so sorry.” Solas said in same language, and his agony seemed real. “The dagger was poisoned, and it is too late. There is nothing I can do to save the baby.”  
“ _No_!” Elgar’nan pushed himself up despite Cassandra and Cole’s attempts to hold him down. “I will not have it. Do you hear? This will _not_ happen to me again! You have to do something! The shemlen mages, I can understand their inability, but you! You have to help me, Fen’Harel. Please. Whatever you want, whatever boon you require… Please don’t take this child away from me as well.”  
Cassandra saw tears running along Elgar’nan’s face. His voice was desperate as he pleaded, and it hurt her heart to see sadness on Solas’ features. She knew the answer, even though she could not understand the words. Vivienne had already said the same thing before sending Leliana’s agents to look for antidote against Quick Death. They would be lucky if they managed to pull the Inquisitor through this, but the child was a lost cause.   
“I’m very sorry, brother.” Solas said gently. “But I cannot help you. There is nothing I can do.”  
“You stole them all from me, and now you say I can’t have this one, either!” Elgar’nan’s voice broke. “I can’t! I will not lose them all, not now, I can’t! Solas, _I can’t! Not every single one of them!_ ”  
His eyes were glazed and he sounded borderline hysterical. Cassandra was no longer certain if Elgar’nan noticed what was happening around him.   
“It would be for the best if we attempted to restrain the Inquisitor. Maybe bring in some of the templars. She is going to lose the child, and this is going to get ugly.” Solas said quietly to Cassandra.   
Cassandra nodded, and steeled herself for what was to come.  


 

**\-- Two weeks later. Still Ruins, Western Approach --**

“We found this place three weeks ago.” Elgar’nan said as he strode through the quiet temple. “There was a spell to freeze time, bound to keystones and a barbarian staff. I have begun to reverse-engineer it. Even though the Venatori are generally clueless, they are on to something here.”  
He passed a bundle of notes to his companion, continuing:   
“They had a theory about using proper channel to draw energy from Fade itself. Two of the shemlen mages argued, and the careful one – I believe he called himself Sarpedon – sabotaged the experiment by redirecting the power into sealing the event itself. This is the part you will work on first. I have prepared extensive notes for you; if you need more, contact me. After that is done, we will figure out how the ambitious shemlen was going to destroy the Veil.”  
The elf following him took a good look at Elgar’nan’s notes.   
“You plan to reverse the time, my lord?” his eyes flashed.   
“Yes.”, Elgar’nan replied curtly. “Do not even think of saying no to me now, Senris. I am on no mood to suffer disobedience. Not even from you.”  
“I was not questioning your will, my lord. How far back you need us to go?” the sentinel asked coolly.   
“Far enough so I can breach the time itself and draw my child back.” Elgar’nan said darkly. “I would have all of them, but the using Fen’Harel’s mark as the catalyst will only allow me to go to the moment when the Breach opened. So we will settle on this one.”  
“We will require sacrifices.” Senris replied, holding the notes.  
“The Inquisition will attack on Adamant Fortress. I will send you what you need.” Elgar’nan said. He pushed open the door, stepping outside.

“Harding.”, Elgar’nan addressed the scout in common language. “This man, Senris, is a Dalish hunter and a member of my clan. He and the rest of his company will stay here at the Still Ruins to conduct a study for me. Your men should supply them with everything they need, but make certain your people will stay away from the ruins. The magic we found from there was unstable and if my people are disturbed, there might be accidents.”  
“All right!” Harding nodded.   
“After the attack on Adamant, collect any Venatori-affiliated mages we imprisoned and send them here. Senris and his men will interrogate them to find out more about what happened here.” Elgar’nan ordered.   
“Are you sure you don’t need help? The Venatori can be tricky for non-mages.”, Harding offered.  
“I’m sure I will manage.” Senris said, looking down on his nose at the dwarf.  
Elgar’nan patted him on the shoulder and said:   
“But you have your orders. I have a fortress to conquer. If something comes up, contact me.”  
“There are several of us who wish to accompany you, my lord. Leaving you—“, Senris started in elvish.   
“No.”, Elgar’nan replied.  
Senris looked him in the eye.   
“Your daughter would not have died if you had said yes when I asked you last, my lord.”  
Elgar’nan’s features twisted in rage, and he slapped Senris on the face with open hand. Harding let out a startled noise, taking a step forwards.   
“Do not mention her. Do not ever mention her, before you can tell me your task is done.” Elgar’nan leaned forwards, his eyes burning. “Do your task, Senris, and do not push my patience. I have none left.”  
Senris nodded, crossing his hands behind his back. He watched how his lord mounted a hart and left towards south.   
“That was… harsh.” the little dwarf said, sounding upset. “I have never seen the Inquisitor act like that. I’m sorry.”  
“You do not understand. The gesture was well deserved. We failed our duty. We will not fail again.” Senris said coolly and turned on his heels, striding towards the Still Ruins. As Harding watched, the elves gathered inside and sealed the doors behind them.  
Elgar’nan’s clan was a curiously dressed lot, she thought. They all had pelts and ragged ugly fabric one would expect from a poor hermit living in the woods, but Harding could have sworn she had seen a glimpse of golden armor under the brown cloaks on more than one of them when they vanished inside the old building. And they all had the same tattoo on their proud, haughty faces.

“Where is Miracle?” Varric asked. “Curly was asking for her. We are closing on the fortress soon.”  
“He doesn’t want to be here. It hurts.” Cole said. “He won’t accept it. He will change it.”  
The companions of Inner Circle looked at each other. It was Iron Bull who cleared his throat.   
“Look, Cole, we know she took it hard. But even the Inquisitor can’t bring the dead back to life.”  
“His last blessing, gone in a tide of blood. Just like the others.” Cole murmured, his watery eyes looking towards the west. “How they can call him the father, if he loses them all?”  
Varric sighed.   
“Curly still needs her to go over the plans. We can’t start the attack without her. Seeker, could you--”  
Cassandra was just about to answer, when they saw Elgar’nan’s hart riding from the west.  
“Miracle!” Varric greeted him, waving his hand. “We were just wondering where you were.”  
“I had other business to attend to.” Elgar’nan replied shortly. “Varric, Cole and Cassandra. You will follow me to Adamant.”  
He did not wait for replies, and Cassandra saw how he was already urging his hart to go on, but she was not willing to be left behind this time. When Elgar’nan left, she pushed her heels against the sides of her horse and followed him.   


“Elgar’nan.” she said hurriedly as soon as they were out from hearing range. “Are you all right?”  
“No.”, his answer was short and clipped. He had barely spoken to her or anyone after the Winter Palace. The change in him was harsh. There was no signs of happiness or laughter in him now, or any other emotion. It was like speaking to a Tranquil, Cassandra sometimes thought. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t reach him, and she didn’t know what to do.   
“Elgar’nan.” she tried again. “I would help you, if I could. I’m very sorry for what happened. If there is anything--”  
“I know.” he said, keeping his eyes locked on the road ahead. “Your intentions are honest, Cassandra, but there is nothing you can do. It is over.”  
“What is over?” her temper got better of her. “Do you mean the baby? I buried poor thing, because you refused to even to look at her! Or do you mean us? You asked me to share my life with you, and still you haven’t said two words to me after Enansvevaral died.”  
And then, finally, Elgar’nan looked at her.   
“Everything.”, he said. “I mean everything and the world as you know it. For what it is worth, I’m sorry, but I have never been any good at mercy. Mercy only gets you killed.”  
He prodded his hart to run faster, and left the stricken Cassandra behind.

 

 

 


	13. Elgar'nan, the elven god

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan goes to Adamant fortress. Naturally, it doesn't go like anyone planned.

“Trebuchets.”, Elgar’nan commanded. He took a generous gulp from a flask of spirits and passed it to Solas, who accepted the offering without a word.  Solas drank deeply and finally wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, passing the flask back to Elgar’nan. They both watched fiery missiles fly across the sky towards the Adamant Fortress.   
“Send in the ladders.” Elgar’nan instructed, taking another swig. “Tell the mages to cast barriers on the men who are first to climb.”   
Cullen raised his voice to pass the order.   
“Is it working for you two?” Varric asked. “Getting drunk before battle?”  
“No.”, Elgar’nan replied shortly. “Your durgen’len spirits still taste like bronto piss.”  
The woolly numbness brought by alcohol entering his bloodstream wasn’t quite as thick as one could hope, but it was a fine line between being too drunk to fight and falling on one’s knees, howling, because Dreamers did not react well to presence of demons on this side of Veil and Adamant was stuffed with them. Normally, Elgar’nan would have been pissed to find out there was yet another source of annoyance in Fen’Harel’s ruined world, but today, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Unmeasurable pain of a body was a good diversion from mental wounds as long as his body stayed operational.  
“The battering ram, Cullen.” Elgar’nan gave the command. He emptied the bottle and threw it over his shoulder, starting to walk towards the fortress. He heard Cassandra’s angry stomping behind him, accompanied by shorter steps of Varric and Cole, but did not turn to look back.

He had always been bad at breaking up with people.

 

It worked well until Erimond ran away and summoned the cursed dragon. Elgar’nan did not waste any time starting to run after him; he wanted to kill the dragon. It was symbol of everything which was wrong in this ruined world. Where masked shemlen dared to poison their saviour. Where Fen’Harel stood, his hands hanging on his sides, and took Elgar’nan’s last remaining child away in a basin. Where a shadow dressed in white dared to mock him, and stupid, tainted children played with forces far beyond their comprehension. He would kill them all, make the world burn, and dance on their corpses as the flames rose higher. The battle madness and drunkenness filled his head, making him feel giddy and cruel at the same time.  
“He is slipping, falling, failing…” Cole’s anxious voice chanted behind him. “Why to bother holding back? There is nothing left here.”  
“Inquisitor, wait!” Varric yelled.  
Elgar’nan felt a flash of fury, and stopped, throwing a death glare over his shoulder. The dwarf paled.   
“You will not speak to me, or demand things from me, or I will cut you in two.” Elgar’nan said chillingly. He turned away and continued after Erimond, missing the stubborn set of Cassandra’s jaw. The Seeker said few words to Varric and Cole, and then started to march after Elgar’nan.  


“All I did was dangle a little power before your eyes. And you couldn’t wait to get your hands bloody.” Erimond spat.   
Cassandra heard a loud crack of electricity as she followed Elgar’nan up the stairs.   
“I will never serve the Blight!” Clarel cried out.   
Cassandra ran towards the voice, only to stumble against Elgar’nan’s extended arm on the top of the stairs. She opened her mouth to demand why he was stopping her, but then she saw archdemon grapping Clarel in its jaws.   
“Stay back.” he ordered in unfeeling voice. “That one is mine.”  
“After you just threatened to kill Varric for speaking to you, you are in no position to give orders.” Cassandra snapped.   
“Be grateful I don’t kill you.” Elgar’nan said and started towards archdemon, but he got only halfway before he was stopped by Cassandra grabbing him by hair.  
“The man I love does not kill his friends.” Cassandra said between gritted teeth, refusing to let him go. “Hurting others will not make your loss easier to bear, Elgar’nan. You are better man than this.”  
“Your faith is beautiful, but misinformed. I am what you see in front of you. I was the emperor of entire realm built on bones of slain enemies, and they named me a spirit of vengeance.” Elgar’nan replied.   
The fires of ruined fortress reflected in his eyes, and Cassandra felt cold fingers of fear running along her spine. For first time ever, he felt alien, like something from stories of Dalish savages stealing human children and sacrificing them to their heathen gods.  
“I don’t care what you say. You are making things up. I could help you, but only if you let me in. I love you.” Cassandra felt tears of anger and fear rising to her eyes. “I love you, you idiot. You can’t shut me out like this. You can’t ask me to follow and then leave me behind without an explanation.”  
Elgar’nan opened his mouth to answer, but then a sound of crashing rock buried everything under. The tainted dragon had landed again, and they were on the wrong side of broken battlement. Warden-Commander Clarel laid on the stone in a pool of blood.   
“Stay back.” Elgar’nan said, pushing Cassandra behind him as the archdemon approached the pair.  
“If you think I will leave you face death alone, you--”, Cassandra started, but she never had chance to finish before dying Clarel attacked the dragon for last time and the battlement collapsed under them all. 

 

Cassandra fell. It was just like a dream, she thought dizzily. She was quiet, unable to utter a sound, but the terrible sensation in her stomach was familiar. She felt Elgar’nan’s hand grabbing her arm, and she knew they were going to die. The ground was getting close, now, and wind whistled in her ears.   
“Farewell.”, Cassandra whispered, finally finding her words.   
“Not yet.” Elgar’nan snarled, and the world exploded in eerie green.  


\--

 

“There is no place like home.” Elgar’nan said to himself as he rose up in the Fade, a man once again. He stretched his shoulders, straightening to his full height. By lost lights of Arlathan, being able to change back into his preferred form was wonderful. In the Fade, it was simply matter of will to change. Not that he was unhappy with his vessel – it had served him well even though some basic functions of women were simply unpractical compared to those of men - , but it was not the same thing. He would not miss having boobs which were sensitive to everything from scratchy fabrics to cold or occasional bruise when someone hit his breastplate. Boobs, Elgar’nan had learned, were highly overrated, and much more enjoyable if someone else had to wear them. Or the menstrual bleeding. Gods, the stupid bleeding.

“Cassandra?” he asked, spying the Seeker laying on the ground behind a large stone pillar. “Are you all right?”  
She didn’t answer, so Elgar’nan decided to check on Cassandra. Stone simply melted as he walked forwards, bowing to his will as a Dreamer mage. Such a welcome change from the sheer annoyance of having to deal with Veiled world. He felt so much better. Calmer.   
“Wake up.”, he said gently, brushing his fingers to close the bloody cut on Cassandra’s face. The magic came to him unthinkingly, and he smiled as Cassandra opened her eyes.

She blinked, closed her eyes, and blinked again.   
“Elgar’nan?” she whispered, sounding shocked. “Am I dead? Are we in Maker’s halls, now?”  
“Not yet.” he said, glancing around. “I told my children not to leave their pets unattended for too long. This place looks like a mess. But I’ll fix it.”  
He focused his will, and changed the depressing, ugly surroundings into sunny meadow filled with flowers. A marble pathway led from Nightmare’s realm to Black City in the distance.   
“I fear I can’t do anything about my burned house.” Elgar’nan noted apologetically. “I fear I ruined it.”   
Cassandra stared at him. All colour had left her face.   
“You are no ordinary mage.” she said.  
The corners of Elgar’nan’s mouth started to twitch involuntarily.   
“I thought we had already agreed on that.” he said carefully. “I told you that I’m _somewhat_ older than you.”  
Cassandra sat up and pointed a blaming finger at him.   
“No living have walked in the Fade since magisters. We should be dead. You should not be able to change everything just by thinking. And I heard you calling the Black City yours.” she said fiercely.   
“Well, it is true…”  
“Who exactly are you? Is Elgar’nan even your real name?” Cassandra demanded. Anger was burning brightly on her chiselled cheekbones.  
Elgar’nan cleared his throat and tried to come up with a very good answer, when he was mercifully saved by a small, almost see-through spirit crashing against him.   
Elgar’nan looked at the little, wispy thing, and tried very hard not to cry when he recognized the brush of magic. He automatically lifted it to his arms, cradling the spirit against his chest.   
“Enansvevaral.”, he said to Cassandra in choking voice. “This is—was our Enansvevaral Filomena.”

 

\--

The white path to Black City was still empty. A man, woman and a wisp laid on the grass by a small, dark pond and watched the stars lit up in the enchanted sky.   
“Are you named after Elgar’nan, the elven god, or are you Elgar’nan, _the_ elven god?” Cassandra asked.   
Elgar’nan crossed his arm behind his neck, keeping one hand securely around the wisp which was laying on his chest.   
“That depends on your definition of godhood.” he said lightly. “I’m not Maker, if you are asking. But I was the leader of my People. A husband, and a father.”  
His fingers curled lovingly around the small shiny form.   
“Of all treasures in my realm, I loved my children best.”  
“And your wife?” Cassandra asked carefully.  
“She was my heart. Then she was murdered, and I learned hard way that man without his heart is only half a man. We would have ruined the world, Fen’Harel says.”  
“Says?”  
“Solas.” Elgar’nan sighed. “He’s Fen’Harel.”  
Cassandra was silent for a long time. Then she finally asked:   
“Are there any other pagan gods in Inquisition? Should I be prepared for Blackwall being some Avvar myth, or Varric calling himself a son of Stone?”  
Elgar’nan chuckled.   
“Not that I know of. You are taking this remarkably well.”  
“It’s because I’m frozen by fear. My… you are ancient heretical god. Our dead baby is a lovely golden ghost shining in the Fade. I’m not a mage. I should not even be here. Especially not in flesh.”  
“You think she’s lovely?”  
“Of course she is.”, Cassandra said softly. “How she is here?”  
Elgar’nan felt prickling in his eyes, and he ignored it.   
“Spirits become persons when they develop an identity. Layers upon layers, like Cole. But Enansvevaral was too young to survive without a body. Her soul passed through the Fade, but got lost in a way. It’s likely because my original body is still here in Fen’Harel’s broken prison, and she is attuned to my magic. A soul cannot leave the Fade without a body, or she will twist. Become a demon as you understand it. “  
“If she can’t leave, what will happen to her?” Cassandra asked.  
“When we leave, she will stay behind. The Fade will change back the way it was. She will likely be eaten by stronger creatures in Nightmare’s realm, or slowly dissolve into Fade itself.” Elgar’nan replied.  
Cassandra’s jaw set on stubborn line.   
“This place looked terrifying when I opened my eyes. You changed it. Show me what it really looks like.”  
“There is no such thing as ‘really looks like’. Fade follows the commands of the strongest dreamer.”  
“Stop avoiding it, Elgar’nan. Show me.”, she commanded.  
With sigh, Elgar’nan snapped his fingers and the desolate realm filled with nightly terrors returned.   


“Are those _bones_?” Cassandra stood up. “And what is that huge demon over there?”  
“Oh, just ignore it. It’s Dirthamen’s stray pet running amok. He found two of them when he was a little boy, and brought them home. He gave me halla-eyes look and begged so sweetly that I had to let him keep them. Mythal didn’t like having demons inside house, so Dirthamen bound them in the form of ravens. The spell has unravelled with time like everything else in this world.” Elgar’nan said, shielding the wisp from their unhospitable surroundings as he stood up.   
Cassandra glared at the demon.  
“There is no way I’m leaving a baby in a place like this.” she announced. “This is disgusting.”  
“Like I said, there is nothing we can do.”, Elgar’nan replied sadly.   
“Bullshit.”  
“What?”  
“I said bullshit.” Cassandra turned her fiery glare at him. “Even I know there are spells for these things. That’s how Hero of Ferelden did not die. Leliana told me all about it.”  
“Yes, but saving a soul requires creating a body, and with a Veil in place, magic can’t create something which would be real on both sides.”  
“You didn’t use magic last time.” Cassandra remarked.  
“Yes, but I did it traditionally. Or as traditionally as a man getting pregnant can be.” Elgar’nan tried to explain. “Even if I changed my form, I can’t exactly get pregnant by myself. It would be just me, divided in two bodies, and fertility magic is very fond of opposites.”  
Cassandra looked utterly frustrated.   
“What is it?” Elgar’nan asked carefully.  
“Do I have to spell it out loud for you? Oh, Maker.” Cassandra muttered. She took a deep breath and turned bright red. “I’m trying to say that I’m not leaving her behind in here, and it’s not like we lacked any… necessary equipment between the two of us.”  
“That is a delightful proposition, Cassandra.” Elgar’nan said, and a slow smile lighted up his face.  
“I think I’m going to die from embarrassment. I feel like a fool.” Cassandra said, staring at the ground.   
“Why?” Elgar’nan frowned.  
“I wanted poems. Candles. A perfect romance. Not a smelly pond in the Fade, or demons. Or a magic ritual. But I want to save her.”  
Cassandra’s expression looked torn. It would not do, Elgar’nan decided as he carefully breathed in, sheltering the baby’s soul inside his own body. If she wanted poems and candles, she would have them, and much more. He had forgotten more poems than most men ever learned.   
“Now that we are here, I’d like to show you Ise’Melana. We called it a summer city. I had a palace there, and the grove was my favourite…” he began lightly, distracting Cassandra with a flow of words as the Fade around them changed again.   
Together, they walked into a darkening evening where birds trilled softly and the warm air was blooming with the scent of night’s flowers. Elgar’nan wrapped his arm around her waist, and Cassandra looked down, blush still burning on her cheekbones. But there was small, secret smile on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan says that gentleman never tells, but the rest of chapter goes like this.
> 
> Press play.  
> https://youtu.be/UTKSUlMbp9A (To the stars from Dragonheart OST)
> 
> Then add some poetry. This one is by lord Byron.
> 
> "She walks in beauty, like the night  
> Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
> And all that’s best of dark and bright  
> Meet in her aspect and her eyes;  
> Thus mellowed to that tender light  
> Which heaven to gaudy day denies. "


	14. Unlucky Jim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan discusses the future with Solas, and is forced to make unfortunate choice to mask his true intentions.

Cassandra had always been a good, devoted servant of the Chantry. She had obediently listened the wise words of Chantry priests, and she had felt she understood the necessity of protecting mages from themselves and dangers of the Fade. But now Cassandra knew that she had severely underestimated the temptations Fade had to offer.  
If the Lord Seeker himself interrogated her about this, Cassandra could not truly explain _how_ she had gotten herself in situation like this. She was physically in the Fade, naked, and there was a pagan elven god between her thighs licking her… Oh, Maker!

“I think I'm dead. ”, she said mournfully, looking at the sky with glazed eyes. If not his hold on her legs, she surely would have flown away to where dead souls go. Cassandra didn't recall ever feeling so soft and weightless.  
Elgar'nan made a low sound which Cassandra couldn't quite categorise at her current state of mind. It was something between a purr and a chuckle, and it sent tremors down her spine, making her heart melt like.. a pudding? Oh, why she wasn't elaborate with her words like Varric? She wanted to be, to tell what she felt, but she only managed to sound like a clumsy fool.

“My love.”, he whispered, and Cassandra felt as glorious as any heroine as he trailed soft kisses up her body, finally pulling her in his arms. A gasp escaped her lips as he bit down on her neck, and Cassandra thought she was on fire.   
“Are you certain?”, Elgar'nan asked, raising his head to look at her.   
“Yes.”, Cassandra replied without hesitation.  
He looked unusually serious, and somehow grim.   
“Yes.”, Elgar'nan said after moment's silence. “I will have this.”  
Cassandra didn't understand what he meant, and she thought of asking, but she was too distracted by warm touch of his hands trailing over her body. There was a star-lit soft sky over them, and grass which felt softer than any feather bed Winter Palace could claim, and there was the man she loved.   
“There will be peace in Thedas for as long as you and our children live. I promise.”, Elgar'nan whispered to her ear.

 

\--

“You were physically in the Fade?”, Dorian gawked.  
“Yes! It was very refreshing experience.”, Elgar’nan said happily. Cassandra rolled her eyes, blushed fiercely, and hid her face against Elgar’nan’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her with obvious affection.  
“What about the huge demon we saw trying to get through a rift?”, Iron Bull asked.  
“It was just a stray pet.”, Elgar’nan dismissed. “I leashed it to wait until it’s owner returns. Now if you excuse us, we’ll have a nap, and I cancel my orders to disrupt the time line and destroy your world.”  
“Your sense of humour makes me homesick. What else you were planning? Dance on our scorched bones, maybe?”, Dorian inquired.  
Elgar'nan just smiled brightly.  
“What about Wardens?”, Hawke asked.  
“Oh, them. The order will plant flowers for next twenty years. Flowers make world a better place.”, Elgar’nan said. He slipped his arm under Cassandra’s legs and lifted her up. He whispered something in Cassandra’s ear, and the Seeker giggled. Actually giggled, and the two vanished in direction of tents.   
Varric’s eyes turned as big as plates.  
“Did you hear that sound? Or is there something wrong with my ears?”, he asked.  
“The land of dreams is apparently a wonderful place.”, Dorian said cheerfully. “Poor Corypheus just happened to enter the wrong part of the Fade. He should have thought of flowers instead of unlimited power.”

 

\--

When Inquisition returned to Skyhold, changes were made.

“I expect to be busy in coming months. We need to streamline the Inquisition business further so it doesn’t distract me from more pressing matters.”, Elgar’nan announced in the war room. “I’d like to introduce Senris. He is a member of my clan, and he has long experience keeping me organized.”  
A stern-looking elf stood by Elgar'nan's side, watching them. Cullen felt like he was subjected to an unknown test, only to fail even before he said a single word. It seemed like Josephine and Leliana didn't enjoy the inspection either, and even Morrigan twitched slightly. The advisers looked at each other. Finally Josephine cleared her throat.  
“Of course we are happy to have help, but we must consider our funding and connections with Orlesian nobility…”  
“Senris can tell you what to do.”, Elgar’nan dismissed her worry with a gesture. “One last thing. Lady Morrigan told that you all consider Corypheus’ dragon a problem. It is not a problem, and I will not allow you to collect an army to march to Arbor Wilds. Corypheus is searching for Mythal’s temple there. “  
“What? How do you know it?”, Morrigan's voice rose.  
“You heard me. I don’t wish to set a foot there ever again, and certainly I will not send a shemlen army there to steal and carry off everything to Orlesian university storage. Nobody will go there without my permission. Ever.”, Elgar'nan said, giving Morrigan a cold glare which made the witch shut her mouth.  
“But Corypheus...”, Leliana tried.  
“Yes, yes. I require a small party to deal with Corypheus. I’m giving you instructions about it later.”  
“Even though catching Corypheus on his way there is a worthy goal, I find it short-sighted to forbid a quest for knowledge we desperately need.”, Morrigan replied snarlingly.  
"The knowledge you so desperately need is right here.”, Elgar'nan replied and tapped his temple with two fingers. “Corypheus has simply stored a part of himself inside the dragon. Old stuff. But we already have someone who can combat it. Solas can do it. He was always flighty for a wolf. Worse than foxes with wings.”  
Elgar'nan frowned and put hand in his pocket, feeling for something.   
“Fenedhis. Where did I put?--”  
“The book is on your desk in your chambers, in the second drawer. Right next to extra-large rose-scented bath bubbles you requested. Servants should have finished filling the bath tube within next fifteen minutes despite their inefficient training.”, Senris said dryly.  
“Oh, thank you.”, Elgar'nan said happily. “Now, if you have any questions about destroying Corypheus, stealing his orb or saving the world, you can ask Senris. I have to get Cassandra before water cools.”  
“But isn't the Seeker still in Western Approach?”, Leliana frowned.  
Elgar'nan turned his back and hurried out before his advisers had time to react. Senris sighed and steeled himself for inevitable questions.

 

Elgar'nan was making his way towards Morrigan's eluvian when he was waylaid by Solas.

“Fenny! I have no time for your Fade ramblings. My bathwater is cooling off as we speak.”, he said irately.  
“You have been avoiding me in the Fade.”, Solas pointed a finger at Elgar'nan.  
“Of course I have. I'm a poor Dalish warrior with no ability to do anything in the Fade. Except close holes with someone else's magic.”, Elgar'nan smirked and waved his green palm in front of Solas' face.  
“We need to talk about Mythal's temple.”, Solas said.  
The annoying grin vanished from Elgar'nan's face.  
“Follow me, Fenny.”, he commanded and started up the stairs leading to battlements.

“I don't want to return to Mythal's temple, but there is no chance I will give it to Corypheus.”, Elgar'nan said as they stood side by side, watching the snowy wasteland below.  
“In that, we agree.”, Solas said. “The Inquisition is growing alarmingly. If this goes on for much longer, we will need to disband it. It is too dangerous to let power concentrate under the flag of faith.”  
Elgar'nan smiled wryly.  
“Your opinions have not changed, I see. Have you taken the control of eluvians from Briala?”, Elgar'nan asked   
“Yes.”, Solas agreed. “It was not pleasant. It cost me Felassan.”  
“As much as I despised the man during our years of the war, he was not without merit. My condolences. A loss of even one elvhen is something we can ill afford.”, Elgar'nan said.  
Solas eyes were hard when he looked in the distance.  
“We need to move faster than we originally thought. It is dangerous to be awake too long. It only makes the necessary actions harder.”  
“I disagree.”, Elgar'nan stated.   
“Because of your attachment?”, Solas asked with ire.  
“No.”, Elgar'nan said, turning slowly to face Solas. “Because I'm the Eldest, I'm the leader of Evanuris, and I will not allow you to make another rash mistake like you did when you created the Veil. You killed thousands of innocent people. You destroyed an Empire. You _ruined_ our world.”  
“Only to save them from you all.”, Solas whispered, but there was no power or sharpness behind his words. Elgar'nan had struck him to bone.  
“And you failed.”, Elgar'nan told mercilessly, walking forwards as Solas retreated. “You have failed our People, giving them death and ruin. They are hungry, they are enslaved, they are poor and sick and blind to magic what should be their birthright. They are hunted, and they are dying. You know you are guilty, Solas. The guilt is what drives you to restore our world and pay for your mistakes. But you will find no peace in that.”  
“You cannot know it.”, Solas said hoarsely. His back was against the tower wall, now, and there was no room to retreat. Solas held his chin high, not willing to be cowed even though Elgar'nan was close enough for the hems of his dress to brush Solas' toes.  
“I was Vengeance, Fenny.”, Elgar'nan said. “Some failures are too grievous to be judged by justice. There are crimes so vast and terrible that only vengeance remains. If you didn't know it to be true, why would you still be here with me? You need me, because I'm the only one who can give you atonement.”  
He looked at Solas, holding him with cold blue gaze.  
“Our People have suffered enough. Even though I hate you, even I don't believe you would have done this intentionally to them. To us, yes, but Mythal believed you wanted to help. For her sake, I will give you a benefit of doubt, and an order.”  
“I am not yours to command. I'm not your dog, like Senris.”, Solas replied.  
Elgar'nan ignored him, leaning forwards.  
“You will not rush to withdraw the Veil just to calm your conscience.”, he growled. “You will not make it worse. You will take your time and prepare a plan which will not end in catastrophe. There will not be another ruined empire. There will not be another Corypheus you happened to underestimate. I'm tired of cleaning up your mess, Fenny.”  
“If you fail my People and my children again, there is no corner in the world where you could hide from me.”, Elgar'nan whispered in Solas' ear.

The door next to them opened without warning, and Elgar'nan reacted in a flash. He pushed Solas against the tower wall and kissed him.  
“Oh! Inquisitor, I'm so sorry for interrupting!”, the clueless scout Jim apologized, turning red.   
Elgar'nan made annoyed “move-along”-gestures with his free hand, hoping the man would take a hint and leave. His hasty excuse to meet Solas in private was getting very unpleasant very quickly, because Dread Wolf was feeling Elgar'nan's ass and smooching him with glee. The fur ball clearly had a thing for muscled Dalish women. Feeling annoyed for the sake of his vessel, Elgar'nan bit Solas' lower lip. That made him finally end the kiss.  
“You are feisty.”, Solas purred, licking the blood off his lip.  
“If you touch my ass again, I will break your bones.”, Elgar'nan said sweetly.  
“I'm looking forward to it.”, Solas replied.  
When Elgar'nan left, walking as fast as he could with dignity, Jim was still staring. 

 


	15. Mythal's temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan nurses a grudge and cheers himself up. Solas bears the consequences.

Cassandra had never thought she would have children. But she had never thought to fall in love with ancient elven god, either. She was heavy and cranky and she didn’t like being hidden in ancient temple in Western Approach even if she understood the necessity. Her only company was a group of ancient elves who didn’t even speak common. The heat was extremely uncomfortable and made her legs swell until she couldn’t put her shoes on. When Leliana pointed out that Elgar’nan had whined less about his pregnancy ailments, Cassandra threw a book at her. The gall of Leliana! Cassandra did not know a person who whined more about living in a female body than Elgar’nan!  
There was no way Cassandra was complaining more. She was not complaining at all! She was only slightly irritated, having trouble adjusting to the fact that she could not see her own toes and she kept bumping her stomach against furniture when she tried to reach for something. Cassandra would have taken a Terror demon instead of heartburn any day. The worst part was that the culprit who had smooth-talked her into this was not even present. Oh no. He was out there saving the world. While Cassandra was growing fat, and getting unfairly judged by her friends.

 She had prepared to give a piece of her mind to Elgar’nan when he finally arrived to meet her. But Elgar’nan had clearly been forewarned, or maybe he had previous experience of irritated pregnant women starting their third trimester. He returned bearing a gift.  
“This is.. I can’t tell you how happy—“, Cassandra sniffed, trying very hard not to cry. “I can’t believe you made Varric to write a sequel to Swords and Shields.”  
“Anything for you, my heart.”, Elgar’nan promised, beaming at her.  
“I’ll have you know I’m not crying.”, Cassandra said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m not the type of woman who cries when she gets such wonderful gift.”  
“Obviously not, my love. It’s just sand in your eye.”, Elgar’nan said wisely. “I’ll cast a cooling spell, and we can cuddle while you read.”

  
Cassandra was much taken by her book, and she barely acknowledged Leliana’s arrival. The spymaster looked a bit green on her face. Evidently travelling through eluvian did not agree with her. Solas would have told that letting humans know about eluvians was not tactically sound choice, but he didn’t need to know. Besides, Elgar’nan had better things to do than ride back and forth from Western Approach to Skyhold. He had promised Cassandra that he would not burn her world as long as she and their hopefully many children lived, and Leliana would die of old age before the war became an issue.

“I have news.”, the spymaster said, looking grim. “I have learned who poisoned you at Halamshiral.”  
Cassandra put her book down, and stood up, supporting her back with her hands. She walked to Elgar’nan, and gripped his arm firmly.  
“Who?”, Elgar’nan asked. His voice sounded hollow inside his head.  
“It was the elven herbalist named Elan Ve’mal, who worked for Inquisition. My men interrogated her. She said she did for the good of the people under the orders of Wolf. I’ve looked everywhere, but so far we have not identified—“  
“I know.”, Elgar’nan growled. “That snake! The child-stealing rotten beast! To think I begged him to help, and he was the one who banished Enansvevaral, just like all my little ones! I’m done with him. This time, I’m getting rid of him for good!”  
He strode to grab his two-handed sword from the weapon stand, but a sudden weight on his arm slowed him down.  
“Get out, Leliana. I’m handling this. Close the door.”, Cassandra’s mouth was firm, and her fingers gripped Elgar’nan’s arm. “Listen to me. Listen to me, Elgar’nan.”  
“It’s Solas. That fucking ball-licking wolf!”, he hissed, making his way towards the weapon stand despite Cassandra hanging like dead weight on his arm. “I should have known. Once a baby-stealer, always a baby-stealer!”  
“You can’t go kill him, you fool!”, Cassandra shouted.  
“He killed our baby and stole my children!”, Elgar’nan yelled.  
“Yes, but our baby is here. She is here, and she’s alive, and she needs you. I need you! If you go confront Solas now, what if he locks you away again? What if the mark flares, and you die? You almost died when you fell from the Breach.”, Cassandra’s dark eyes looked unusually vulnerable. “I can’t look after the baby alone. I know nothing of babies! I was counting on you. You promised I wouldn’t have to do this alone.”  
The upset look on her face made Elgar’nan feel bad. He remembered how it felt to be pregnant. Upsetting things were Bad Things, and she was right about him promising to be there.  
“We should at least wait until Enansvevaral is born, and then we can go arrest him together.”, Cassandra continued. “I agree with you that he should be punished for what he did. It was wrong, and terrible, and I thank the Maker every day we managed to save Enansvevaral. Even if I would have preferred you to give birth to her.”  
“I’m not letting him get away with this.”, Elgar’nan warned. “Not even if you ask me to be merciful.”  
“I’m not asking. I’m simply telling you that Solas must wait until Corypheus is defeated. When you get the orb back, you will be better prepared to face him, and he can’t change you into nug simply because he is stronger mage.”  
“I’m the stronger mage.”, Elgar’nan said, feeling offended.  
“In the Fade, perhaps, but your body isn’t. Please, love.”, Cassandra said. “And if begging is not enough, I will hit you on head with the pummel of that sword. You know I will.”  
“I know.”, Elgar’nan sighed. He looked at Cassandra, who still clung stubbornly to his arm with both hands. “All right. Have it your way. I will not confront Solas before Corypheus is defeated but after I get the orb back, nothing in the world will save him.”

\--

Clearly Cassandra did not trust his patience, because when Elgar’nan was leaving to Skyhold, Cassandra announced she was coming with him.  
“But love, I’m heading to intercept Corypheus’ attack on Mythal’s temple and you are seven months pregnant.”, Elgar’nan resisted.  
“I’m not staying here and waiting to get poisoned by another minion.”, Cassandra replied firmly. “I’m coming with you, so I can keep an eye on both you and Solas. I’m certain you will keep me safe. Besides, I don’t want you to go alone to that place.”  
Elgar’nan looked at her, and felt gratefulness in his heart. He did not look forwards to visiting Mythal’s temple, and he would have avoided it altogether if Solas’ treachery had not been revealed. In these circumstances following his original plan of sending the Dread Wolf alone to stop Corypheus would not do.  
“I’m always grateful the fates blessed me with the love of brave and honourable woman such as you.”, he said, raising Cassandra’s hand to his mouth.  
He kissed her knuckles gently, and was rewarded with flushed smile.  
“You could come to armourer with me.”, she suggested practically. “I would feel much better with well-forged chain between me and everyone else. If they make any in this size.”  
“They will.”, Elgar’nan stated firmly, and led his love through the eluvian.

\--

Visiting the temple of his murdered wife was not comfortable experience. Sharing it with Solas was making it even worse. Cassandra, bless her, had been far-sighted on her insistence to come along, because Solas’ and Morrigan’s arguments about elven gods were driving Elgar’nan batty. Without Cassandra, he would have drowned them both in decorative water canals when they started to talk shit about Falon’Din. The water was only ankle-deep, but he could work with that. His oldest son had been difficult in his youth, but no teenager was without faults, and Solas had no right to slander his baby. That baby-stealing, murdering wolf!

Abelas’ arrogant attitude didn’t help Elgar’nan’s foul mood, and hearing him speak about Mythal was making him feel bad about everything. If there was something Elgar’nan hated, it was having bad conscience over something. Of course he knew that having a part in his wife’s murder had been wrong, they didn’t need to rub it against his face! Solas was being utterly annoying, speaking in supposedly clever riddles and trying to recruit Abelas in front of Elgar’nan’s nose! Yes, it was true that he was currently occupying a vessel of Dalish woman, but one would expect some courtesy from a competitor! If Abelas didn’t realise what was in front of him, it was his mistake. Elgar’nan had no use for dim-witted servants. Maybe, he thought grimly, it was not surprising Mythal had died if all his servants were as blind as Abelas. The man had written pompous notes on how they prepared against those who had slain Mythal, but if they didn’t notice Elgar’nan was currently wading through their wet temple and killing the intruders for them… Oh, Maker’s pants.

The day brightened only a bit when Morrigan turned into a raven and flew to spoil the Well of Sorrows. Of course, there was an argument on who was supposed to drink. Elgar’nan didn’t like her, so he didn’t mind if the woman was bound to eternal slavery, and he felt Morrigan was at least marginally brighter than Mythal’s other servants. But Morrigan’s insistence that she was more knowledgeable on ancient elves and their magic than Elgar’nan was bugging him in the wrong way. The whole day had been a disaster, and he was feeling very petty.  
“Who is going to drink?”, Morrigan demanded. “I’m the best option, naturally, but we can’t wait any longer before Corypheus arrives. Make up your mind, Inquisitor!”  
“Let me think about it.”, Elgar’nan said sweetly. “Cole is not quite solid enough to drink, and I’m not letting Cassandra anywhere near that pool. It would be extremely uncomfortable for all parties.”  
Solas snickered, standing near the edge and watching the calm surface of the Well.  
“All husbands are already slaves to their wives, so there is really no point of me drinking.”, Elgar’nan continued. He had an idea. A very cheerful idea. _Yes._ It would be perfect.  
“And Abelas is right in one thing. You don’t know what you are asking for. It leaves me with--“  
He braced his left hand, and slammed his weight against Solas’ back, pushing him over the edge in the Well of Sorrows.  
“Solas.”, Elgar’nan finished the sentence, smiling widely when the water splashed and Solas’ eyes glazed as binding runes covered his face. The day had suddenly turned out much happier than he had thought.


	16. Hand of fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elgar'nan meets Mythal and refuses to choose.

Life was wonderful. Binding Solas to Mythal’s service for eternity delighted Elgar’nan to no end. Every day when he woke up, he first thought about Solas’ astonished expression when Elgar’nan had pushed him into Well of Sorrows, and wide smile spread on his face. And every night when he went asleep, he congratulated himself of finding the best way to get back at Fen’Harel for imprisoning his children, ruining his world and killing Enansvevaral Filomena. Whenever he thought about it, he couldn’t stop chuckling, and Cassandra hit him with a pillow. But Elgar’nan didn’t mind. Being pregnant had been horrible, and it was Fen’Harel’s fault for causing him to miscarry. He reminded Cassandra about it every time she suggested that finding so much joy in another’s misfortune was not fair. Cassandra made a disgusted noise and dropped the topic. Apparently, her sense of justice could not quite dismiss the swollen feet, sleep troubles and the baby stealing space from her lungs.

Thanks to Elgar’nan’s bright idea, it was all going to turn out fine. Evidently, something was still left of Mythal, and Mythal had never suffered fools gladly. She would put Solas in his place in no time. And enslaving the famous libertarian was poetic. Just to be on safe side and share his joy, Elgar’nan wrote to all Dalish clans, whom he had recruited in his tent when making Enansvevaral Filomena for first time, and told them that Solas was really Fen’Harel but he had dealt with him, and now the rest of their gods would return in due time.

The exact length of “due time” was the problem. Elgar’nan was having difficulties trying to decide out the best time to rescue his children after he regained Fen’Harel’s orb from shemlen pretender. He didn’t know if it was a good idea to introduce Andruil to Cassandra when she was in vulnerable state. Andruil was a bit volatile, at times. Remembering how she had been after too many trips to Void, Elgar’nan worried her mental health had likely gone downhill in imprisonment. Elgar’nan had always been worried about Andruil’s mental health after he had caught his favourite daughter with Fen’Harel. Andruil had tied him to a tree, but it had not been the good type of tying up people. No, it had been the bad type, which usually led to exchange of fluids and all kind of vile things Elgar’nan refused to think in the same sentence with his little Andruil. Fen’Harel, that cursed fleabag! It was his fault. He had corrupted Andruil. Well, there was no corrupting Enansvevaral Filomena with naked rope games, thanks to Well of Sorrows!

Freeing Falon’Din would likely cause ruckus in Elgar’nan’s home life, as it was. Falon’Din needed a structured environment, where Elgar’nan had enough soldiers to bash him if he got too cocky. His son had previously had some problems understanding that divinity was a family business, where Elgar’nan decided how things should be done. Being introduced to concept of elven mortality would likely encourage Falon’Din’s distasteful ideas of generation change. Falon’Din would dig up his Unfallen from some bolthole, take up his old aspirations of being the main god, and then Elgar’nan would have another war in his hands, _again_. He was really not looking forward to that. Babies were small only a short time, and Elgar’nan’s future plans included bedtime stories, playing and hair masks, not blood and grime.

And Dirthamen, who had always been mommy’s boy. Elgar’nan shook his head. Dirthamen would pretend to be open to idea of shemlen step-mother several thousand years younger than himself, and then agitate his siblings into assassinating Cassandra. It would be just like him. He was Elgar’nan’s least favourite child, always scheming. Falon’Din, at least, made his grievances known like a proper man should and solved their disagreements by attempting to fight Elgar’nan, instead of this dishonest mind manipulation stuff.

Sylaise? Sylaise had always been a good girl, even though a bit temperate. Elgar’nan could give her the southern wastelands, no, _Orlais_ , so it would not matter if she burned down everything. But then he would have to release June, too, and Elgar’nan had always thought that his sweet girl could have done so much better than marrying a boring, hairless durgen’len. June was boorish, and had no flair. Maybe, he considered, he could free Sylaise first and introduce her to the nicest of many Dalish boys Elgar’nan had met in his tent. If things went well, everyone could conveniently just forget about June. Dirthamen would have to wait to be second-last to be freed; the boy was just the type to make unwanted inquiries about missing brother-in-law on family dinner. Then Sylaise, the dear girl, would have a bout of bad conscience and Elgar’nan would have to get June out. He hated it when Sylaise cried.

 

\--

Because victory feasts were best shared with friends and admiring public, Elgar’nan sent a word to Dalish clans as soon as Corypheus made his presence known at the ruins of Haven.  He sneaked out with Varric, Cole, Vivienne and Solas. There was no way he was leaving Solas behind with Cassandra and Enansvevaral Filomena, who was true daughter of her father and was currently postponing her arrival, much to Cassandra’s despair, so it would not be overshadowed by Corypheus messing with the sky. Elgar’nan was very proud of her already.

Elgar’nan had made a special effort to look especially dashing, but Corypheus had not. It was obvious that the bony magister didn’t have any idea of godhood. One should always look his best when fighting for the fate of the world. People like Corypheus had only themselves to blame when artists painted them ugly. For a mortal man, the stakes were even higher, because nobody wanted to be immortalized unattractively.

The fight was quite straightforward. Solas, who did not appreciate when Elgar’nan yelled “Fenny, fetch the ball!”, managed to kill Corypheus’ lyrium dragon. Flying wolves were apparently not something his companions were accustomed to, but Vivienne would have died before admitting she was surprised, and Varric just thought it was a great idea for his book. There were rocks flying, and some lines Elgar’nan had rehearsed in front of mirror, but things went generally very well. Until the moment when stones stopped falling, and Elgar’nan jumped to catch the orb, only to see Solas was already holding it.  
“Vhenan.”, Fen’Harel said, and the eerily familiar cadence in his voice drained all colour from Elgar’nan’s face.

In hindsight, Elgar’nan should have remembered that trying to avoid Mythal had never worked before. She always had a way to smoke him out from his hiding place, and death had not made her better.  
“Mythal.”, he acknowledged, trying to ignore the dread building inside him.  
“You look different than the last time I saw you.”, she spoke through Fen’Harel’s mouth.  
“So do you.”, Elgar’nan said, letting his shoulders fall. “Mythal, let’s cut the chase. I’m sorry.”  
The silence stretched between them, and Elgar’nan heard Varric calling his name on the other side of collapsed stone wall.  
“Do you truly believe an apology will make it right?”  
“No.”, Elgar’nan replied. “I’m not fool. I know I made a terrible mistake. You died, and I’m sorry.”  
“Solas has told me many things. Is it true that you have a human lover, now? A child? You?”  
Elgar’nan lifted up his chin.  
“Yes. When I came to this world, I didn’t expect to find love again, but I did. Cassandra’s soul is full of fire, and she pours out honour like fountain. She is much like you. But you must not believe everything Solas tells you, love. This world is shadow, yes, but it does not deserve to burn. Solas made a mess of our People, but they are people still. They try. It is not their fault they can’t be everything they are supposed to be. It’s our regret to carry, not theirs. A father must have mercy on his children.”  
Solas’ expression was odd. He seemed to smile for a moment, and then his eyes turned into cold blue again.  
“And our children, vhenan?”  
“I will save them, of course. Eventually. When I get everything in order.”, Elgar’nan said firmly. “I swear. The thing is that… I’m not certain they will adjust easily to current circumstances. It will likely go better if I have time to prepare and I can devote time to each of them instead of letting them out at once. And I promised a peace for few generations anyway.”  
“No.”, Mythal said.  
“No?”, Elgar’nan repeated, shocked.  
“You have changed, my love, but not quite enough. If you wanted my forgiveness, time for that was before I died. I will give you a choice. You can either have our children or the child who is being born as we speak. Two worlds can’t exist in one.”, Mythal said.  
“No. You will not make me choose. I will never choose. If you have to take something, you can take me, but you can’t take my children. If you try, I will kill you again. And make it stick, this time. Andruil, Sylaise, Falon’Din and even Dirthamen are good children, and they don’t deserve to be locked away forever. Your dog already killed Enansvevaral Filomena once, and besides, you have no reason to call me out on having children with other people! I’ve seen Morrigan! Witch of the Wilds, anyone?”, Elgar’nan yelled, pointing a finger at Solas. “You have been fucking shemlen for thousands of years, and do I blame you? Yes, but at least I’m civilized about it! If you try to make me ruin the world, it will kill your children, too! Either shemlen daughters or ours! So if you have an issue with me, kill me, then! Not the babies. I’ve lost enough babies for a lifetime, and I will not let you ruin them.”  
A sad, wistful smile rose on Solas’ lips.  
“My love.”, he said in softer voice. “Two years. That much I can give you. Put things in order. Be a good father for your human daughter. And come to me, when it’s time.”  
He stepped closer, and kissed Elgar’nan. Elgar’nan tasted the familiar, sad sweetness of Mythal’s lips, and closed his eyes.  
“I’ve missed you.”, he whispered. “But I wish you had chosen a different body to possess. This Dread Wolf-thing is not working for me at slightest. It’s like dipping one’s balls in freezing water.”  
Mythal chuckled. Elgar’nan reached to pull her into his arms, but his hands met only air. When he opened his eyes, his dead wife/worst enemy was gone, and Solas’ orb with her.  
“Oh, fenedhis lasa!”, Elgar’nan cursed loudly, drawing attention from Varric who was standing on the top of the stone stairs. “I should not have done this!”  
“I saw you smooching with Chuckles again.”, Varric sighed. “Saviour, you have to stop it. There are no happy endings for people who fall in love with apostates.”  
“Indeed.”, Elgar’nan said, pursing his lips. Well. It was obvious that Mythal thought she was calling the shots, but Elgar’nan was no spring chicken in this game. He looked calculatingly at the green light glowing on his palm.  
“Varric. Could you ask Iron Bull to come here for a minute?”

 

\--

“I’m sorry I’m late!”, Elgar’nan burst through the door. He looked a bit paler than usually, but otherwise fine. Cassandra let out a breath she had been holding, and smiled despite her exhaustion.  
“She’s here.”, Cassandra said, pulling away the edge of the blanket to show him. “Enansvevaral Filomena.”  
“Lady Inquisitor! You can’t just march inside like that!”, a healer followed in Elgar’nan’s footsteps. “You are still bleeding, for Maker’s sake!”  
“Bleeding?”, Cassandra asked.  
“Just a small scratch.”, Elgar’nan waved his right hand. “Not important right now.”  
 He sat on the bed, and his face lit up with a glorious, lovely smile when he saw his daughter. Cassandra secretly thought it was like a sunrise, warm and strong and full of fire. She scolded herself for being such a fool, but she could not help it. She loved him. She loved him, and their daughter, and she was grateful for the Maker for his safe return.  
“You saved the world.”, Cassandra said. “I saw the Breach closing.”  
“I guess I did.”, Elgar’nan said softly, watching Enansvevaral Filomena with wistful eyes.  
“Do you want to hold her?”, Cassandra offered.  
He cleared his throat, looking a bit bashful for a moment.  
“I’d love to, but it’s… Well, I can’t. But Dagna is working on it, and I promise you don’t have to change all diapers on your own. I will conscript people to do my share until Dagna comes up with something suitable.”  
“Elgar’nan! Tell me at once what you did!”, Cassandra’s voice rose in a warning.  
“I saved the world. For a time.”, he replied, pulling back the sleeve of his red coat. A stained bandage was wrapped around the still bleeding stump of his left hand. With some difficulty, Elgar’nan fished a glass box from his pocket. A familiar green glow of the anchor shone through it.  
“Senris! Put my hand somewhere safe for the time being.”, he said, thrusting the box at sentinel. “I will need it one day, but not today.”

 

 


End file.
